Agent Bickering had been with Jake for about an hour and was just leaving when Tory returned from Longmont. "Who was that?" she asked Jake.
"An FBI agent," he told her.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
Jake stammered. "I guess . . . it's not what I . . . We're gonna go through with it, Tory, just like nothin' was wrong."
Tory's expression fell. "But Jake . . ."
"It was my idea," he said. "Most of the people involved in the heists won't even be in position until Saturday. A lot of them will be arriving in trucks, and they figure to wait until the day of the festivities in town, when they'll be a load of traffic on the roads. If the feds start making arrests now, they’ll get only a few of them, and they'll have no evidence to use against the rest. It's better this way."
"It's dangerous," Tory said. "Did you tell them about the guy who came here the other day?"
"I did," Jake said. "That's why Agent Bickering was dressed like he was. I figure the guy's out there somewhere – watching us."
Tory looked stricken. "I don't like it, Jake. I'm afraid for you to be alone with that man on Saturday night."
Jake seemed paled by the thought as well. "I don’t have any choice, Tory. I got myself into this, and I've just got to go through with it." Knowing there was no other way didn't assuage their joint fears in any way.
On Friday morning a rancher named Dwayne Gertz reported to Sheriff Miller that he had nearly fifty head of prime beef cattle missing – steers he had been planning to take to market the next week. He'd been out prowling his pastures, checking pasture conditions and counting heads, and discovered the loss. "There's something else," he told Miller. "I found a place out there where the ground's been torn up." The Sheriff drove out to his property to look at the site, not telling Gertz anything about what he knew had taken place, though Gertz' cattle had been on the list Jake had provided of targeted herds. "I'd appreciate it if you would keep this quiet, just for a few days," Miller told the rancher. He said that he had received other reports about rustling operations taking place in the county, and a general alert to area ranchers may interfere with investigations currently taking place. Gertz didn't go along with it for a second. "I'll be God-damned if I'm going to keep from warning my neighbors about this," he said. "I can't stand by and let my friends get robbed blind." It took some talking, but Miller finally got Gertz to agree to give him a few days before going public with it. It was a hollow agreement, though. Gertz talked to his nearest neighbor, and closest friend, who also ran cattle in the area, and by Friday afternoon there was a hot rumor racing around Weld County that there was a band of cattle rustlers at work. Sheriff Miller talked with Agent Bickering about it, saying, "I hope to God this doesn't foul up our operation." Gertz had been the last rancher scheduled to be robbed, according to the timetable Jake had provided, so both lawmen agreed it was an unfortunate development that they were going to have to live with. The cattle rustling phase of Pico's operation was complete. If farmers and ranchers were going to grow paranoid now, it was their trucks, tractors and farm implements they’d better be watching out for. Miller figured it would give them something to talk about, when they all got together Saturday night for the big bash. "By then it'll be over with anyway," Miller told Bickering.
CHAPTER 40 – Dance Partner
Frank groused about all Thursday, stewing over what was going to happen Saturday night. He only grudgingly accepted Ben Miller's assertion that the only way to proceed was to allow his property to be confiscated. "It's to protect Jake Jobbs," the Sheriff had told him, but what did Frank care about that? He owed nothing to Jake. "If he was going to be acting alone, maybe we could use decoys in some way – but he's not," Miller said, stating fact. The idea was to protect Jake as best they could, arresting him when they arrested all the others, so as not to tip-off his cooperation with the authorities. He could turn state's evidence later, as the justice system called for it, and when security arrangements could be made for him. "I know this is tough, Frank, but you've simply got to go along with it," the Sheriff told him.
Frank's other major concern was making certain that none of his crew got tangled up with the thieves. He told Jarvis Lang that he wanted everybody to attend the dance on Saturday night, and made Jarvis responsible for passing on the order. There was to be no one left behind at Walker Ranch. "What are your plans for that night?" Frank asked Jarvis.
Jarvis just shook his head. "None, really," he said. "I thought I'd go to the dance that night. A bunch of the boys are wanting time off to go to the rodeo in the afternoon."
"That's fine," Frank said. "Tell 'em all to have a good time and stay out late." He repeated his order that no one was to be left home at Walker Ranch Saturday night, which struck Jarvis as odd. He asked Frank about it, but Frank just told him it was the way he wanted. "You make sure about it now, Jarvis," Frank said. "I don't want to come back to the ranch and find anybody here. The boys have all been workin' hard. Tell 'em I said they need to take a break, they’ll be plenty've hard work ahead." As an afterthought, Frank said – "And tell 'em I want to get together tomorrow night for a little smoker of our own. We'll have a little Walker Ranch celebration."
"Okay," Jarvis said, though he questioned his boss' insistence.
"One other thing," Frank said. "I wonder if you'll do something for me Saturday night."
"What's that?"
Frank cocked an eyebrow and looked Jarvis up and down, considering what he was about to request. "I'd like you to take Lily to the dance Saturday night."
Jarvis seemed knocked off balance a little. "Well . . . I . . ."
"She doesn't seem to have any plans and I don’t want her out on her own," Frank said sternly.
"What does she say about?" Jarvis asked. "Goin' with me, I mean."
"She'll be fine with it," Frank said. "I want her with someone I can trust who will keep an eye on her. Okay?"
"Okay," Jarvis said, but he was pretty uncertain. He and Lily weren't exactly friends, though he had always wished it were different.
"One last thing," Frank said. "Don't tell her I asked you to do this."
* * * * *
"Lily – ma'am – I wanted to ask you something. That is, if you've got a moment."
Lily had been grooming Star, her quarter horse, lost in her thoughts, and she was startled by Jarvis' interruption. "Jesus! Scare me to death!" she said scoldingly.
"Sorry," Jarvis said. He appeared nervous, holding his hat before him, over his heart, like he was offering condolences to a new widow. "I sure didn't mean to startle you."
"What are you doing?" Lily asked, noticing his oddly passive stance, strange for a guy who seemed to spend most of his time trying to convince others how tough he was.
"I had something I wanted to ask you." "Had?" Lily asked. "Did you get over it?" "No ma'am," Jarvis said. "I still have it."
Lily waited for him to continue. "Well – what is it?"
Jarvis seemed to gird himself. "Well, I was just wondering, if you aren't going to the dance Saturday night with anyone . . . I wondered if you might care to go with me?"
Lily looked at him suspiciously, then turned around and resumed grooming her mare. "I don't even think I'll go to the stupid dance," she said.
Jarvis frowned, like what she was saying didn't make sense. "Everybody's going," he said.
"Not everybody," Lily said.
"Is it just that you don't want to go with me?" Jarvis asked.
"No – it's not just that I don't want to go with you," Lily said irritably. "Besides, I don't think my dad would let me go to a dance with his foreman."
"I could ask him," volunteered Jarvis.
"No!" Lily said, "I don't want you to ask him. I think I'll just stay home, or maybe go someplace with some friends or something."
"Can't we be friends?" Jarvis asked.
"Why would we be friends?" Lily questioned.
"Gosh, Lily – I've known you since we was kids . . ." "Since you were eighteen,"
corrected Lily.
"Well, that's right," Jarvis said. "I've known you goin' on seven years. It's not like I'm just some stranger."
"My dad doesn't like me socializing with people outside my own age group."
"He's talkin' about Jake Jobbs, for Christ's sake – he ain't talkin' about me!" Jarvis said, frustrated.
Lily stopped her grooming and turned to look at him. "What makes you so certain of that?"
"He does!"
"My father?" Lily asked, appalled.
"He wants me to take you out. He practically told me he did!" Jarvis said. Lily's jaw dropped. "What?"
"He didn't ask me to ask you out, or anything like that," Jarvis said. "I can just tell. He thinks it'd be a good thing."
Lily eyes widened in disbelief, and then suddenly she tossed her grooming brush back into an open locker, startling her horse a little as it banged against the cabinet. "Well I choose who I go out with," Lily said, "not my father! And I am not going to go out with you, Jarvis Lang! I don't care what he says!" Then she stomped past him and left the barn, leaving him behind to stand wondering what he had said that was wrong.
* * * * *
"Daddy – did you ask Jarvis Lang to ask me to the dance Saturday night?" Lily burst into her father's office and confronted him with the question.
Frank thought for a moment, and then decided to look innocent. "What would make you think that, honey?" he asked.
"He just told me you did," Lily said.
"He what?" Frank asked in disbelief. He had warned Jarvis to avoid that very thing.
"He told me you thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to go out – together," Lily said.
Frank searched the room with his eyes, trying to find an angle. "I just thought . . . you like Jarvis, don't you?"
Lily pouted. "He's okay. He's just a dumb cowboy." "I thought, bein' as how you don't have a date . . ."
"Daddy – that's no concern of yours!" Lily shrieked. "I can find dates just fine, if I want one. I just don't want one for Saturday night."
"That's ridiculous," Frank said. "This is one of the biggest celebrations of the year. Everybody is going to go to this thing. Damn it, you should to!" His intonation was just a little more authoritative than he had intended.
Lily looked at him wide-eyed with amazement. "Are you telling me I have to go with Jarvis?"
Frank tried to come up with a softer approach, but he wasn't in the mood for games in this instance. "Yes, Lily – I'm telling you I want you to go to the dance with Jarvis."
Lily's bottom jaw dropped. "Daddy – that's not fair! You can't order me to go out with someone!"
"The hell I can't!" Frank said, finally dropping all pretense of sensitivity. "I want you to be escorted to that dance by Jarvis, and I don't want to hear any argument about it. I'm not going to have you out on Saturday night, with everything that's going to be going on, without some kind of a chaperone."
"A chaperone!" Lily said, appalled.
"What's wrong with that?" Frank asked, not really caring to hear an answer.
"I won't go!" Lily said, stamping her foot once hard on the floor. "I won't be told who I go out with!"
"You sure as hell will!" Frank said, raising his voice, completely at the end of his patience. "Now God-damn it, Lily – I don't want to hear any more about this. I'll tell Jarvis myself that he's to pick you up here at the house, eight o'clock Saturday night."
Lily was speechless, red with anger.
"You'll be ready, too, young lady," Frank said, the veins of his forehead and neck now bulging. "You be ready or I'll carry you out and put you in with Jarvis myself, ready or not."
Lily tried to imagine a response, but she couldn't think through her abhorrence. Finally she exhaled hotly, turned and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
CHAPTER 41 – Strangers
Tory, Pete and Py had done their level best to carry out their routine chores as they got closer to the end of the week, and to the night which they secretly expected to be their last with Jake, probably for a good long while. They tried to remain cheerful, to pretend that there were no dark clouds hanging over them, and to envelope these final days in a protective shell that preserved their special affinity. It was a facade, however. Pete found himself working his cattle, distracted, often drifting off into thoughts that stole from his work day and left only a feeling of ennui. It was the same for Py, who just seemed sad, resigned over Jake's broken trust, but rueful. It seemed to him like they were all waiting for something terrible to transpire, that was inevitable and that would detract from the quality of all their lives. A part of him still wished he could be angry with Jake, but a larger part had started to believe that it wasn't really Jake's fault at all, but that one way or another they had all just been unfortunate victims, and that his time would be better spent appreciating the best part of what they had all had together. Life seemed cruel for some, and for those fate-afflicted it seemed unalterable, merciless in its power to pile misery on top of misery, while others received bountiful joy. All Py could think of was the luck of the draw. Jake had pulled low card, and now it seemed to Py that he had, as well.
The thing none of them wanted to talk about was the fear they had for Jake's safety. He had become a pawn in a chess game, an expendable piece who had placed himself in harm's way and now had no choice but to face up to it. The trio found themselves praying that Jake lived to go to prison, which they had all accepted as his certain future. The paradox of their emotions made it impossible to conceal their feelings, and when any of them tried to converse with Jake their agony showed through. Again, it stole from their final days. They couldn't face him without feeling that they were contributing to his despair, that they felt they were a part of a death watch, and it showed in their faces. The sense of impending doom was palpable. The best of all possible alternatives was equal to the worst any of them had ever hoped for anyone. Jake was going to have to pay for his crimes, and they prayed it wouldn't be with his life.
* * * * *
"Hi, Victoria. What're you doin '?"
Tory looked up from her house cleaning, glancing at Jake, who had come in the back door and leaned against the door frame to the kitchen. He called her "Victoria" occasionally – the only person, other than her father, who ever had – and it struck her as a uniquely personal endearment. She would miss hearing it when he was no longer around. "I'm just straightening up a little around here," she said, trying to sound casual. "It gets so dusty out here, I can’t keep anything clean."
"It seems like things are rushin' up on us kind've fast, doesn't it?" Jake said, a little meekly, like a little boy who didn't want summer vacation to end.
"It wouldn't break my heart if we never saw tomorrow," Tory said honestly.
Jake offered a wan smile. "I don't think I'd want today to last forever," he said gloomily. "It don't feel that good."
"Are you scared, Jake?" Tory asked kindly, looking up at him.
He nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I guess I am. It's all come down to doin' somethin' I don't want to do. I guess it always does, eventually."
Tory bit her lip and looked away, moving her dust rag over the surfaces of some shelves. "I can't say its how I want it to be, but I just keep telling myself that it's for the best in the long run. I think what you're doing is very brave. I admire you for it, Jake."
He seemed to sit on the thought for a second. "I'd give anything to have had things work out different for us. I don't know why it is that things are like they are. It seems like, after all this time, I finally got somethin' I want and . . . I don't know, I can't have it." Jake shook his head in disgust. "I guess maybe I don't deserve it."
"Don't deserve what, Jake?" Tory asked, looking at him, eyes filled with sadness.
"You," Jake said flatly. "You, your dad, Py, this ranch – anything. Happiness. I guess maybe I was supposed to be gettin' ready for it all along, and I just did all the wrong things."
"No Jake, that isn't really the w
ay it is," Tory said. "Life's so much more complicated than that. Think, it was your doing 'all the wrong things,' as you say, that brought you to this point. Now I think – if you see what it is you want – you've just got to start right now, doing the right things to hold onto it."
"I see what I want," Jake said, looking into Tory's eyes.
She dropped her dust rag and melted into his arms, kissing him desperately, trying in vain to exorcise all their shared pain and heart-break. "I love you," Jake said, and Tory replied – "I love you, too." She kissed him again and again and squeezed him tightly, as if every moment together now was possibly their last. "It's going to be hard without you here. There'll be a lot to go through, but I'll be waiting for you to come home, Jake. Everybody will. We all love you."
Jake held onto her as if his very life depended upon her, as if his soul might fly off into the ether if he didn't clutch her tightly to his breast. He held her so that she couldn't see the tears that filled his eyes, and threatened to bulge to running streams down his cheeks. He couldn't allow that, it wasn't in his code. A man doesn't cry, that's what he'd always believed. His mother had drilled it into his head when he was a boy, and he had listened. Besides, he hadn't earned the right. Any tears were all his own doing, the result of his life of mistakes and miscalculations. Any sympathy he got from anyone was all their own compassion, and testified to their character and moral rightness. As he held her, Jake felt humbled by her sincerity and kindness. And her forgiveness. He raised his eyes to the heavens and wondered what he had done to deserve this redemption.
* * * * *
"You had a visitor yesterday, Jake. Who was it?"
Jake was startled by the voice, coming from a darkened comer of his bunkhouse.
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