by Alan S Evans
“I don’t know if I like this idea,” Tigee replied, shaking his head.
Tara walked over and put her hand on her grandfather. “This may be the only way we can keep them safe. With the public eye on our horses, Nethers would have to leave them alone. The last thing he wants is publicity.”
Tigee seemed puzzled. “How would we get the public’s attention?”
“I’ve got some friends in the magazine business who are always looking for a good story. I can’t guarantee you anything, but I’m pretty sure this is the type of story they’d jump all over. The kind of national exposure they could give you would make a lot of people more than just sympathetic to what’s going on out here. This would give you the time you need to convince your people that Nethers and his bunch are trying to take advantage of them. I’d sure like to catch Nethers by surprise with some big-time publicity about what he is trying to do to the horses and your valley.”
“We’ve seen the articles about you in the magazines,” Tigee said.
Shane looked surprised. “How did you see any articles about me?”
“Your friend Mrs. Jensen brought them out for us to read.”
Shane shook his head with a bashful expression. “I didn’t know she did that. But I can tell you this, hundreds of thousands of people read those magazines every month. I also know some animal-rights activists. They would love to get involved with saving the mustangs, and they may be capable of getting those shooters along with whoever is behind them into a lot of trouble. You just give me the okay, and I’ll start the ball rolling.”
The room grew quiet. Finally Tigee looked at Tara and then turned toward Shane with a single nod. A reluctant yes.
“Normally, I would bring this up in front of the tribal council. But, since there is so much going on here that they are unaware of, and so little time to act, I will take the responsibility.”
Shane breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, I’ll begin making calls first thing in the morning.”
As Shane stood to leave, Tigee said, “Your friend Mr. Jensen called yesterday. He said it was important that you contact him.”
“Do you mind if I call from here?”
“Sure, go ahead.” Tara and Tigee went out to the porch while Shane picked up the phone.
The two sat on the swing together, as they often did. Her grandfather patted her leg and said, “I can see a difference in the two of you since you returned. You seem closer than before.”
“Yes, Grandfather. I think we have some real feelings for each other.”
The old Indian smiled and said, “He’s a good man, but did he tell you about his past?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Did he tell you why it is so important for him to set his mare free with the herd?”
“No, but he told me before that it had something to do with a promise he made.”
Tigee nodded and said, “It isn’t my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you about it when he is ready. Just be careful with giving this man your heart, Tara. He’s dealing with a lot of grief, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
The two sat quietly for a while, and then Tigee said in a concerned tone, “I had another vision, involving a Tahotay that resembled him. In this dream, he showed no fear as he battled the enemy that was in front of him. Unfortunately, he was not aware of the real danger that was sneaking up from behind. I fear for his safety.”
This really shook up Tara. “Could this dream be about the trouble we had during the trip? He fought those men bravely. If it had not been for him and the dogs, things could have turned out really bad for Tashawa and me.”
“I think my vision was more about the future than the past. Only time will tell. For now, I’m glad to see you happy.” Tara smiled and put her arm around him as they quietly sat on the swing.
Shane reached Mr. Jensen and was listening closely. “I was shocked to see Vince Nethers standing at my front door ringing my bell. I’ve talked to him in town a few times, but he’s never been out to my house. I invited him in for coffee, and we had quite an interesting chat. At first it was just small talk, but then he started asking questions about you.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. I had quite a run in with his son, Bo, and two of his friends. I think I may have broken Bo’s nose in the ruckus.”
Mr. Jensen laughed. “According to their side of the story, the boys told Vince that they worked you over pretty good.”
“No, sir, the only ones they worked over were the two women I was with. Believe me, those sons of bitches paid a price for that.”
“What were those boys doing out there, anyway?”
“They were covering up some test drilling sites that were on reservation land. You were right all along. Those people are sniffing around for oil out there. Now, I suspect Nethers is trying to mess up all kinds of income for the Shoshone so that they will be behind with their bills when he makes them an offer on the land.”
“How about the mustangs?” Mr. Jensen asked.
“The Shoshone are keeping a close watch on them, but I’ve got a feeling they’re going to be dodging bullets again real soon. I’ve got a plan I’m working on that might help. But right now, I’d like to know what Nethers was saying about me.”
“Well, he wanted to know who you are, where you came from, and what your business is out here. I acted as if I really didn’t know. I told him I had boarded your horses for a couple weeks and thought you just came out for some hunting and fishing. I don’t think he bought it though. He got real cocky and loud when he said if I saw you again, to tell you to mind your own business or you could get hurt. He said to let you know it would be a good time for you to go back to wherever you came from. I just kept acting like I didn’t know anything about you. I told him I doubted that I would see you again, but if I did, I’d pass the message on. You need to be very careful, Shane. Ole Vince is worried about you spoiling his future fortune.”
Shane quickly replied, “I’m not too worried about him. Besides if my idea works, that old scoundrel is going to find a major complication in his scheme.”
“Shane, you watch your back, and you let me know if I can help.”
“Thank you for everything, sir. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up and walked out on the porch.
“Is everything okay with the Jensens?” Tigee asked.
“Yes, sir, they’re fine.” Shane didn’t see any need to worry these two with the fact that Vince Nethers was threatening him, so he didn’t mention it.
Tara got up from the swing and went over to lean against the porch rail next to Shane. “My grandfather is going to a neighbor’s house for dinner. That leaves me free tonight. If you want, I could come over and cook.”
“Why don’t we go out to eat? I don’t have any food in my cabin anyway. We could run up to Fort Washakie and get a steak.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you here as soon as I get cleaned up.”
The hot shower felt good on Shane’s aching back. Although he was in good shape for a man his age, the many years of making his living in the saddle had taken a toll on this part of his body. With the last of the trail dust washed off, he dressed and went to meet Tara.
A clap of thunder rumbled overhead as a few sprinkles of rain began to fall from the evening sky. It was almost dark when Shane sat down on the porch swing to wait for her. His mind was racing, thinking about the events of the day.
His mind suddenly went blank as he looked up to see Tara coming out the door. Man, she was easy on the eyes! She wasn’t dressed fancy, just snug-fitting white denim pants and a light pink sweater. Her medium-high heels and turquoise earrings complemented the outfit, and it was obvious she had taken some time to primp. The dumbfounded look on his face must have shown his approval, as she looked at him teasingly and smiled. Shane stood up and walked toward her. Tara kept her blue eyes gazing into his as he came closer. When he got near enough, she slowly slid her arms around his neck and softly kissed him.
Tara laughed. “So do you.”
The drive to the restaurant in Fort Washakie was a thirty minute trip. It went by quickly as they talked and enjoyed each other’s company.
She stayed with Shane in his cabin that night, taking little heed in Tigee’s advice of caution for her feelings toward him. She also knew the Indians on the ranch had a live-and-let-live attitude.
Gossip was not in their nature.
The next morning they were both up early. She had a lot to do at work since school would be starting in a couple of weeks. Shane had promised he would help Tommy with the horses, and then he planned to try to reach his reporter friend, Megan Tillie. As they headed out the door to go their separate ways for the day, Tara turned to Shane with a serious look on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
She hesitated, then said, “I know you’ll think that what I’m about to tell you is only Indian superstition, but my grandfather had another vision. In his dream, you were in a great danger. He is worried about you, and so am I.”
Shane smiled at the intense look in her eyes. “I’m sure he means well. I’ll be fine.”
Tara forced a grin and gave him a strong hug. “Just say you’ll be careful, okay? I’m telling you, my grandfather has a gift, and his predictions are often right on the money.”
“All right, I promise I’ll be careful,” Shane conceded as he winked and walked away.
Chapter 21
The light rain last night was just enough to settle the dust and firm up the sandy footing in the corral. Tommy was already in the barn with one of the geldings saddled and was leading him over to the corral for a warm up. “How’s the gelding doing?”
“Real good, Mr. Shane, I’ve got Sloppy saddled up in her stall. I thought we’d take them out on the trail together, so I can show you what I’ve got done with him.”
“Well, let’s go.”
Tommy had accomplished a lot with the horse. Shane was impressed with how eager he was to please his rider.
“You’ve done a good job, and I think he’s broke enough for you to begin putting some real buttons on him. From now on, your rides on both the geldings will involve more technical training. We’re going to teach them how to operate just like Sloppy and Tory.” Shane could see the excitement in Tommy’s eyes.
Shane had worked with a lot of people in his long career, but he’d never seen anyone with as much natural feel and God-given talent as Tommy. Tommy seemed to naturally know why a horse had to be in a certain position to properly perform a maneuver. Shane could only guess this came from the boy watching horses move around in the fields since he was very young.
“I want you to ride Sloppy every day and keep practicing the hip control, the shoulder control, and the lateral movements I’ve shown you. Now let’s get the mare out and see how she is doing.”
After Shane finished helping Tommy, he patted the boy on the back and turned to leave.
“Wait a minute,” Tommy hollered. Then he ran into the barn and came out with something in his hand. “Mr. Shane, I made you this to thank you for all you’ve been teaching me.” It was a hand-braided rope, like the ones Shane had seen on JB and Hawks’s horses. “The Shoshone have used these on their horses for hundreds of years. You don’t have to ride with it, but I thought you might like it for a keepsake. It took me all week to braid it. Mr. Tigee helped me make it for you.”
Shane was taken aback. “Thank you, bud, this means a lot to me. I’ll keep it forever.” Then he affectionately squeezed the boy’s shoulder before walking away.
He would have liked his son, Jacob, to have been able to know this young Shoshone boy. Tommy was a few years older and would have been a good example for Jacob to look up to.
Shane took the rope and hung it over the fireplace in his cabin. Then he took an address book out of the old saddlebags he used for storing personal items. He hadn’t talked to Megan Tillie since he lost his family. They’d been friends a long time, and as she had written in one of her articles, she had actually introduced Shane to his wife, Jennifer. Megan had tried several times to reach him after the accident, but like a lot of other old friends who tried to contact him, he’d never responded to any of her messages. He felt badly about not calling these people, but it would have been too hard to listen to their well-meaning condolences.
When he got to Tigee’s cabin, the old Indian was sitting on the porch, as he usually was this time of day. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning,” Tigee replied.
“Well, are you ready to make these horses of yours famous?” Shane asked jokingly. The old man just smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and gestured for Shane to go in and make his phone calls. He had Megan’s personal cell number, but all he reached was her voice mail, so he left a short message, asking her to get back in touch as soon as possible. He hung up and was on his way out the front door when the phone rang. He could see on the caller ID that it was Megan. He eagerly answered. “Hello.”
“Shane, is that you?” Megan asked excitedly.
“Yes ma’am, how the hell are you?”
“I’m fine. It’s so good to hear your voice. Where are you?”
“I’m in Wyoming.”
“What in the world are you doing out there? Are you putting on clinics again?”
“Nope, no clinics. I guess you could say I’m out here on vacation.”
“Well, what can I do for you?”
“I think I might have an interesting story for you to write about.”
“I’m listening,” she replied. “But, before you tell me about it, I have to say how sad I was to hear about Jen and the kids. I tried to call you several times.”
“I know you called, Megan, I just wasn’t in a frame of mind where I could talk to people about it. It’s still hard.”
“I understand. I just needed you to know I was thinking about you and I was ready and willing to do anything in the world for you. I still am.”
“Thanks, Megan, I appreciate that.”
“Now, what kind of story do you have for me?”
Shane told her about the mustangs and their unique history and how their survival was in real jeopardy. “We’ve already found several mares and foals shot down in cold blood.”
“Do the Shoshone have any documentation on the history of these horses?” she asked.
“They sure do, there are records dating back over hundreds of years. The tribe has papers in their museum that can tell you when a particular horse was introduced to the herd, why that horse was significant in the tribe’s history, and special enough to be set free with their herd. The breeding records are well kept and can trace each of the present-day horses back to these special foundation lines. Believe me, these horses are the real deal. The Shoshone consider these mustangs a sacred part of their heritage. The fact that the herd’s lineage also intermingles with a lot of significant American history should really interest your readers. The only reason the
Indians will let you write about them is to expose these bad guys to the public eye before they can destroy the whole herd.”
He explained about Vince Nethers and his secret oil explorations on the reservation. “This guy knows as long as the herd lives on the land, the Shoshone would never lease it to him.” He also told her about the mysterious sick cows and the rumors of the bad hay, which had shut down the tribes income for the winter. Then he explained how the local authorities were of no help to the Shoshone. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and the only law around here is in this guy’s hip pocket. I’m hoping that a little national attention to this situation will help back these guys off and maybe bring some justice out here.”
“Wow, you sure got yourself caught up in a mess. How did you end up in Wyoming anyway?”
Shane told her about Sloppy and the promise he made to his son. This stirred some sad emotions for Megan, and he could tell she was fighting back some te
ars. Megan had stayed at his home on several occasions and spent a lot time with the kids. Every Christmas there were gifts from her for Jacob and Tina under the tree. Even though she lived far away, she and Jen had stayed close friends and called each other often.
Shane gave her a moment to compose herself and then asked, “So what do you think?”
“It sounds pretty interesting,” her voice quavered. “I just need to run it by my editor, and I’ll call you back.”
“Listen, Megan, time is everything if we are going to save these horses.”
“I understand. If my editor gives me the okay—and I’m sure he will—I’ll be out there in a couple of days. I know the magazine is still looking for a unique story for next month’s issue, so the timing couldn’t be better. I’ll get back in touch with you before noon to let you know what he says.”
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you, and Megan—thanks.”
Shane was encouraged by his friend’s desire to do the story, but he still had one more phone call to make. This one would bring in his real secret weapon. Shane couldn’t help but laugh when he thought about the fire he would be lighting under Nethers and his people with this part of his plan. He fumbled through the pages of his old address book, and then a smile lit up his face as he found the number. The woman’s name was Kate O’Hanson. Kate was the national director of an organization that was a watchdog for inhumane treatment of horses.
She stood about five feet tall and three foot wide. Whenever she locked onto a worthy cause, her strong Irish backbone made her a force to be reckoned with. She was a wealthy widow with plenty of time and money, plus she had an army of well-meaning people in her organization. Kate was also a loyal client of Shane’s. He had started and trained at least half a dozen horses for her over the years. She called her organization the HTH, which was the acronym for Humane Treatment of Horses.