Saddle Up (14 page)

Silver Star, Montana

“Randa Jo Sutton! You are a sight for these sore old eyes!” Miranda felt almost assaulted by the strength of her grandmother's hug. “Need some help with your bags?”

“Don't worry about it,” Miranda said. “I'll ask Marvin to get them later.”

“Marvin's not here anymore.”

“He's not? But he's been at Circle S as long as I can remember. I thought you were keeping him on until you sold. Where did he go?”

Jo-Jo grimaced. “Don't know. Don't care.”

“What do you mean?” Miranda could hardly suppress her shock. “What happened?”

“I had to let him go. Bud was the only man who could ever keep that misogynistic old bastard in his place. Once Bud passed, Marvin seemed to think he could run roughshod over me. Oh, I knew he'd always kept a flask handy, but he seemed to think he could do as he damned well pleased without Bud around. He even got a wild notion that he could take Bud's place.”

Miranda frowned. “Are you saying he
came on
to you?”

“Sure did. Why so shocked? He's only five years younger than me.”

“It's not that! It's just seems really weird. So what did you do?”

“I had to give him the boot, or better said, a knee to the groin. It's been just me, all by my lonesome, ever since.”

Miranda laid a hand on her grandmother's arm. “Jo-Jo, why didn't you call me?”

“What for?” Jo-Jo asked.

“To come and help you. I hate that you didn't.”

“Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I could handle ol' Marvin. It's the workload I just can't handle anymore.”

Miranda followed her grandmother into the house.

“Are you hungry?” Jo-Jo asked.

“Not really, but I'm sure I will be by supper time.”

Miranda salivated at the memory of her grandmother's cooking. No one could cook like Jo-Jo. Of course, no one probably
should
. Jo-Jo slathered real butter and cream on virtually everything. The doctor had even warned that it would worsen Gramp's heart disease, but he'd waved off the warning, saying he'd rather eat what he liked and die a happy man.

“Why has it been so long since you've come out to see me?” Jo-Jo asked. The question, posed with a mildly reproving look, made Miranda feel guilty, as was intended.

“Just really busy, Jo-Jo,” she replied. “Incredibly busy with school and then work, but it looks like I may have some time on my hands now.”

“Really? How's that?”

Miranda sighed. “I'm thinking about leaving my job.”

“You are? Now
that
reeks of a story. C'mon to the kitchen. I'll put on a pot of coffee while you tell me all about it.”

For the next two hours, Miranda sat in her favorite spot in the whole house, Jo-Jo's kitchen, sipping coffee and munching on her favorite childhood snack—Ritz crackers and Velveeta cheese.

“My entire life has revolved around certain goals, but I don't feel the same way about it as I did before. I thought I wanted to work in L.A., but it isn't at all what I thought it would be.”

“If you were so unhappy, you should be glad to be free,” Jo-Jo said.

“Part of me is, but change scares me,” Miranda said.

“Nothing in life is ever guaranteed but change, sweetheart. Believing otherwise is only fooling yourself.”

“Maybe you're right, but I still don't like uncertainty. I just don't know what I should do with my life.”

Jo-Jo laid a hand on hers. “Don't fret. You'll figure it all out. Just give it some time. Why don't you tell me more about this film you're working on?”

Miranda took a savoring sip of coffee. “It started out purely by chance when my roommate Lexi told me about a wild-horse roundup. A wild-horse activist group was trying to sue over it, so the court ordered a videographer to satisfy them that the livestock company was treating the horses humanely. As soon as I took the job, I realized there was an opportunity to do so much more with it, so I decided to make a documentary.”

“And now you think it's worth risking your job over? After working all this time to put yourself through film school?” Jo-Jo set her coffee cup down with a resonating click.

“Yeah. I do,” Miranda said. “There is so much more to this story than meets the eye. I need to do this, Jo-Jo. I could never live with myself if I didn't see it through.”

“That's my girl! I don't care what you do in this world as long as you believe in yourself and what you're doing.”

“That's the only problem with this project,” Miranda said. “I believe in what
I'm
doing but not in what
they
are doing.”

“Why's that?” Jo-Jo frowned. “Are they mistreating the horses?”

“No. It's not that. The livestock company really seems to care about the safety and welfare of the animals. It's the program itself that's all wrong. Did you know there are over fifty thousand horses in captivity?”

“I've heard a bit about this lately but had no idea there were so many,” Jo-Jo said. “Matter of fact, the BLM is looking to make deals with private ranchers. I've heard a lot of talk about that lately at the co-op and the stockyard. There's an outfit about fifty miles south of here that's preparing to take on a bunch of mustangs. Some of the neighbors are really pissed off about it.”

“But why?” Miranda asked.

“A lot of ranchers fear the horses will get out and run their young calves to death. Others are worried about the impact on the elk, but I don't see the problem as long as they all maintain their fences. Horses respect them much better than cows do. Cows push through fences all the time.”

Stirring her coffee, Miranda gazed out the bay window that overlooked the back pastures, which showed large patches of green even in late autumn. It was still her favorite place in the whole world. She wondered what it would be like to make a home here.

“Are you lonely out here by yourself?” Miranda asked.

“Sometimes,” Jo-Jo answered. “I won't lie about that, but I still have mixed feelings about selling. Bud's granddad first homesteaded the place. It's been in the family for generations. I raised my children here. I always thought your father would run it one day, or even Judith and Robert, but they won't ever move here. Judith couldn't leave Montana fast enough. I swear she intentionally picked the nursing program that would take her the farthest from home.

“It's been a lot of work to keep the place up. I never minded when Bud and I were in it together—the ranch was our dream. But now that I'm alone, my heart just isn't in it anymore. It's all just…hard work.”

For the first time, Miranda noticed the purple shadows under her grandmother's eyes. “Have you had any offers yet?”

“Not a single one, not worth considering anyway. One of the neighboring ranches inquired about leasing some of the pastureland though. I'm still thinking about it. It seems wasteful not to be putting it to any use. More coffee?” Jo-Jo filled her cup before she could reply, adding a generous amount of real cream and two heaping spoonfuls of sugar.

“Thanks.” Miranda took a sip while endeavoring to corral her wild thoughts. Her grandmother had just given her the perfect opening. Maybe her involvement with the horses wasn't just about making a film. Maybe she was meant to do much more.

“Jo-Jo,” she asked, “how much grazing pasture do you have here?”

“After letting all the leases go back, I still own four whole sections—prime land with creek access on two sides.”

“How many acres is that?” Miranda asked, her pulse speeding.

“A little over twenty-five hundred. That's equivalent to four square miles, with plenty of water. Water is a priceless commodity around these parts. That's why I'm not dropping my price.”

“What if you could put the land to good use without it being a huge burden on you? Would you consider keeping the place?”

“I couldn't afford to keep it unless I could generate some income.”

“How do you feel about mustangs?” Miranda asked. “I know it sounds crazy, but the BLM is desperate to get those horses off their hands.”

Jo-Jo shook her head sadly. “I know your heart's in the right place, but I don't know the first thing about wild horses, and I couldn't do it alone even if I wanted to.”

“What if you weren't alone? What if I wanted to help you?”

“Sweetheart, it would be a dream come true to have you here with me, but I don't understand why you'd want to mess with wild mustangs. Seems like nothing but a whole lot of trouble to me.”

“Didn't you just say that cows are harder to manage than horses?” Miranda countered. “Maybe we could even train some of them. There are several prisons that do that and offer them up for adoption.”

Jo-Jo looked doubly skeptical. “Randa, honey, you don't know the first thing about breaking a domestic horse, let alone a wild one.”

“I know that, Jo-Jo. We'd have to bring someone on to do the training. I'd never be foolish enough to try something like that on my own, but I have connections now. The West family has been dealing with these horses for thirty years…and Keith has worked with them too.”

“Keith?” Jo-Jo asked.

“He was a wrangler I met while working on the film. He saved me from a rattlesnake. And a mountain lion. I also nearly froze to death that night.” She grinned. “But I've never had a better time in my whole life.”

Jo-Jo laughed. “Sounds a little like the first date I had with your grandpa.”

“Tell me about it,” Miranda said.

“Bud had been coming around for a good while, helping out on the ranch. He kept eyeballing me when he thought I wasn't looking, but never could seem to find his tongue. The first time he ever spoke to me directly was the day he showed up with two saddled horses. ‘Wanna ride?' he says.

“‘Sure. I'll ride,' I answer. I go inside and change into my jeans and boots, and there he is, just waitin'. Doesn't say another word for two hours as we ride up into the mountains. Then he suddenly pulls up. ‘You like steak?'

“‘Yes. Who doesn't?' I reply. Then I noticed the little clearing with a fire pit all set up to go—neatly stacked wood, a cooler full of food, a cast-iron fry pan, coffeepot, and a box of Bisquick. I almost fell off the horse when I realized the man who'd barely spoken more than five words to me had ridden all the way up that mountain hours before just to set up for our ‘date.' I suspected right then that he was the man I'd marry.”

“When did you know for certain?” Miranda asked. Was it really possible to fall in love with someone so quickly?

“About two hours later, when he asked me, but it was the kiss that sealed the deal. Honey, he wasn't a talker, but that sure wasn't because he didn't know how to use his tongue.”

“Jo-Jo!” Miranda cried, cheeks flaming.

“Why do you look so scandalized? I was young once too. And I never stopped liking those kisses either. The secret to a happy marriage starts with great kisses. I never had any complaints in that department…or in any other.”

“Just like that? You just knew he was the one for you?”

Miranda could hardly imagine making that kind of life-changing decision after knowing someone such a short time. She and Keith had shared something special too, but how could she know if it was enough to build on? She wondered where he was at the moment, and what he was doing. It seemed the harder she tried not think about him, the more her mind seemed to go there.

“That I did,” Jo-Jo continued. “You gotta understand, with men, actions speak much louder than words, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. We got married as soon as I turned eighteen. We were together fifty years, and I never regretted a day.” Her eyes twinkled and then misted. “I still miss the ol' codger.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sniffed. “Enough of the waterworks. Now tell me about this Keith of yours. Did you spend the night with him?”

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.”