by Tess Hilmo
“You think that’s funny?”
Astro lowered his head and smacked a massive paw to the ground. Then he looked up and did that smile thing again.
Jade slowly sidestepped over to the corner of the house. “You’re hilarious,” she teased, spinning around to grab the garden hose. She turned the nozzle on, sending a stream of water barreling through the morning air, landing right at Astro’s feet.
The dog jumped and danced and, as the blazing sky was her witness, laughed—jaw hanging open, tail wheeling and spinning through the air—unmistakable laughter.
Jade laughed, too. Deep and soulful, toes to fingertips. She whirled the garden hose in waves and spun it in spirals and danced right alongside Astro and the other dogs, who had joined in the water play. She snickered and chortled and hooted and giggled and, finally, she fell down on a small patch of grass lining Aunt Elise’s front walk, exhausted.
Astro stood over her, panting. His breath was steamy and spiked with the saltiness of cheap kibble. Then he lay down, like a mountain, gently rolling into her side, and nudged his head up against her shoulder.
The other dogs lapped at the puddles and stretched out in the sunshine.
Jade kept her eyes closed and her smile wide.
Wyoming had turned out to be everything her aunt had promised.
22
Jade decided to take a roundabout way to meet Roy at Farley’s ranch. She stopped by the YMCA to see if they needed more of her aunt’s stargazing-course flyers. Standing there in front of the community bulletin board, surrounded by squawking children and the loud thumps of a basketball in the gymnasium, she found the perfect solution to County Hardware’s problem:
WELLINGTON’S JUNIPER FESTIVAL
JULY 27
COWBOY POETRY CONTEST
GRAND PRIZE: $2,500
“You dropping off more of those flyers?” Sandy, the YMCA receptionist, was reaching her hand out. “They go like hotcakes. Have you had any calls?”
“We have our first booking,” Jade said.
“Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Elise Bennett knows a thing or two about stargazing. I’ve been doing my best to talk it up as folks come through. Maybe I should come by and get a firsthand peek at what you ladies are doing over there.”
Jade was still mesmerized by the announcement hanging in front of her. “What?” she said. “Oh, sure. You should come by.” She tapped a finger on the flyer. “Is this for anyone?”
Sandy came over from behind the counter. “Sure is,” she said. “We take our cowboy poetry seriously around here but I suppose anyone is welcome to enter.”
“And they pay someone twenty-five hundred dollars for writing a poem?”
“Oh no,” Sandy said. “Not any poem. It has to capture what we love about living out here in the West. I’m telling you, it’s a real show.”
Jade’s heart started skipping. “Does it have to be one person, or can two work together?”
Sandy peered at the crinkled paper pinned to the corkboard. “Doesn’t say. I imagine they’d allow a double entry. Why?”
“I have an idea for the perfect duo.” Jade noticed there were multiple flyers on the same pin. “Can I take one of these?”
“Knock yourself out,” Sandy said, going back behind the counter. “But you don’t have much time. The twenty-seventh is the end of next week.”
Jade crammed a flyer into her pocket, thanked Sandy, and took off to find Roy.
* * *
When she got to Farley’s barn it was just after two o’clock and she noticed how the hay was stacked in perfect rows off to the side, the main aisles were swept clean, and the stable doors were scrubbed, shining like new. “You’ve been busy today.”
“I had given up on you,” Roy said.
“Aunt Elise gave me a long list of chores and then I went by the YMCA.”
“That’s okay,” Roy said. “Guess what? Farley said if I keep up the good work he’ll let me move out of the stables and into the fields.”
“To ride and wrangle?” Jade asked with a grin.
“I don’t like working for a guy like Farley.” Roy looked earnest. “But if I’m gonna be here checking things out, I might as well make the best of my time.”
Jade wondered who he was trying to convince.
Roy walked to the window overlooking the main horse pasture. The expression on his face said it all. He was dying to sit high in a saddle. Aching to feel the wind on his face and the reins in his hands.
“Have you ever been on a real horse, Roy?”
“When I was four I got to ride one of those ponies that go ’round and ’round in a circle at the state fair. You know, the ones that are too fat and old so they tie them into that contraption and sell rides for two dollars.” He hung his head. “I suppose it doesn’t count for much, but I’ll never forget that day.”
“How can that be? This is Wyoming. Horses are everywhere. Even the license plates have a picture of that bucking bronco on them. How could you, of all people, go all these years and never get a chance to ride?”
“If you haven’t noticed, my parents aren’t exactly the riding type.”
Jade took the paper from her pocket and held it out. “Look at what I found on the YMCA’s bulletin board.”
“The Juniper Festival,” he said. “We go every year.”
“More than the festival. This.” She pointed to the section about the cowboy poetry. “Twenty-five hundred dollars goes to the winner. That’s a whole summer of shoveling manure over here.”
“Are you feeling poetic?”
“Your mom is a poet, Roy!”
“My mom writes about political stuff like America’s indifference to third-world countries. This”—he shook the paper—“has to be about cowboy life.”
“That’s the beauty of it! You know everything there is to know about being a cowboy. You can help her write the winning poem.”
Gears started to turn in Roy’s head—Jade could see it. “Maybe,” he said.
“And the best part is you won’t have to work here anymore. You’ll have your summer back.”
“Why wouldn’t I work here? We need every dime we can get our hands on. I like this festival idea, but that doesn’t mean I can quit. It may look like I’m playing around over here, but I’m not.” He jumped away from the window and grabbed a pitchfork. “Farley’s comin’.” He began fluffing hay. “And I’ve got a whopper planned for him today. Some good ole cowboy magic is about to go down.”
Jade started to ask Roy what he was up to, but Farley strolled through the stable doors and stopped her questions. “It looks right smart in here,” Farley said in his polished way. “It’s been a full week, so I’ve come with your pay.”
Roy set aside his pitchfork and grabbed a clipboard from atop an overturned wooden box. “I’ve been grateful for the opportunity to work, sir. And I was hoping I could appeal to your charitable side today and ask you about a possible donation for Wellington’s Boys and Girls Club.” He stood up tall, wiped sweaty strands of hair back from his face, and held the clipboard out toward Farley. “They’re running a big campaign right now.”
Farley took the clipboard and eyed it. “Is that right?”
Roy tried to stand up taller. “Any amount would be appreciated. A smart businessman like yourself could make a difference in our community. That’s the pledge card right there.” Roy gestured to the clipboard.
“I suppose I could make a donation,” Farley said.
Roy whipped out a pen from his back pocket and handed it to Farley, who filled in his name, address, and a signature pledge of fifty dollars on the card.
“Thank you very much,” Roy said, taking back the pen and clipboard. “I knew we could count on you.”
Farley nodded and pulled a folded wad of cash from his front pocket. He peeled off two one-hundred-dollar bills and held them out to Roy. “Now back to our business here on the ranch. Quality pay for quality work.”
Roy stared at the money, like the re
ality of that cold hard cash waving in front of him was too much to hope for. “Thank you,” he said, finally taking the money.
Then Farley turned to Jade. “Your hours have been a little less. I’d say one-fifty should make us even.”
Jade took the crisp bills.
Farley grinned and played with the ring of keys on his belt loop. “It’s a good job you’ve done here. Why don’t you knock off early today?” He walked over and took the pitchfork from Roy’s hands. “My puncher, Stuart, will be expecting you tomorrow morning at seven sharp. You’ll be working with him from now on and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Puncher?” Jade asked.
Roy was grinning wide as the canyons around them. “That’s a hired hand who works on horseback.” He turned to Farley. “No sir, I surely won’t keep him waiting.”
Farley turned to Jade. “You’re welcome to ride as well, if you’re interested.”
Jade saw this as an opportunity to excuse herself from continuing to work for Farley. “Thanks for the offer, but I could never make it by seven. My aunt needs help with the dogs in the mornings. Besides, ranch work hasn’t been my favorite, so I think I’ll turn in my resignation.”
“Suit yourself,” Farley said, giving a nod and heading back into the fields.
“Here.” Jade held out her pay toward Roy. “Add this to the County Hardware fund. Three hundred and fifty dollars is a good start.”
Roy blinked slowly. He took the money and put it into his back pocket. “Thanks.”
“Congratulations on working with Farley’s puncher. It’s what you wanted, right?”
“Yeah,” Roy said, bringing back his grin. “I suppose it is.”
“Are you upset I won’t be working over here anymore or coming to ride with you?”
“Nah, a city girl like you would only slow me down.”
Jade knew he was teasing. “We’ve got the rest of the afternoon,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
Roy leaned back and looked out the door, making sure no one was there. Then he stepped over to Jade’s side and whispered, “Reconnaissance.”
23
“Butch spent many an afternoon crouched in bushes just like these.” Roy pushed a stray branch from the box elder bush out of his face. They were hiding in the empty field across from Farley’s front gate. “His line of work was ninety-five percent patience.”
“What was the other five percent?”
“Taking people by surprise. You have to wait for the perfect moment before moving in, a moment when you are at your highest point of awareness and the other guy is at his lowest. Anything short of that will land you in jail.”
“Did Butch ever land in jail?”
“He spent eighteen months in a Wyoming cell but he told Governor Richards that if he was released he’d never commit another crime in Wyoming.”
“And did he keep that promise?”
Roy gave Jade a wounded look. “Of course he kept it.”
Jade twisted around, trying to find a spot where branches weren’t jabbing her in the ribs. “And what’s your plan for taking Farley by surprise? What’s that cowboy magic you were talking about back in the barn?”
Roy was smug. “You were there, didn’t you see? I convinced him to make a huge donation to the Boys and Girls Club.”
“Fifty bucks?” Jade asked flatly.
“Well, it started out that way, but Farley was stupid enough to use the pen I offered him so I’m going to be able to go back in and add a few zeros to that pledge card.”
“How many zeros?”
“Two sounds about right,” Roy said.
“You think Farley’s going to pay five thousand dollars? He’ll say you rigged the numbers and you’ll get in all sorts of trouble.”
“Highly unlikely given the second half of my plan.” Roy seemed so pleased with himself. “When it comes time to collect the donation, I’ll put a call in to every media source we have here in town. Newspaper? Check. City Hall? Check. Ron’s local cable channel? Absolutely. Then I’m going to go get a big ole bundle of helium balloons from Albertson’s Market, gather a bunch of kids from the club, and we’re all going to meet up at Farley’s store. Sure, he can say he only pledged a pathetic fifty bucks but I’m banking on the fact he’ll be too embarrassed to admit his cheapskate ways. See how he’ll be taken by surprise in that moment? If half the town is there to celebrate his incredibly generous donation of five grand to the needy youth of our community and the only way he can save face is to write a fat check? Trust me, he’ll pony up the cash. The Boys and Girls Club will get a solid donation and we get to see Farley squirm.”
Jade shook her head. “It’s brilliant, but it’s wrong.”
Roy thumped his clipboard. “It’s what I call pullin’ a Butch Cassidy.”
“You’ll get fired, though. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Roy said, “but the campaign isn’t over for a few more weeks. A few weeks of riding with Farley’s puncher and collecting pay is good enough for me.”
The front gate to Farley’s began to crank open. Roy pulled Jade even lower into the bushes as Farley’s white pickup truck eased onto the road, his black rottweiler hanging its head out the window.
“Finally,” Jade said, standing up. “My legs are killing me.”
Roy pulled her back down. “We’ve got another fifteen minutes.” He looked at his watch. “His housekeeper doesn’t leave until five-thirty.”
“But what if Farley comes back?”
“Then it’ll have to wait for another day.”
The thought of sitting like a flattened pretzel in the searing sun for another afternoon nearly made her cry. “I don’t see why we have to be in these bushes. No one can see us on this side of the gate.”
Alarm passed over Roy’s eyes. “The whole town of Wellington can see us. Anyone driving by or taking their dog on a walk can see us. One kid coming home from the market and our cover would be blown to smithereens.”
Jade sat back down. The summer sun was in no hurry to set, and beat down on them with a vengeance. Finally, when the longest fifteen minutes of Jade’s life had passed, Farley’s housekeeper, Anita, left on a worn-out motor scooter.
Roy didn’t say a word. Each lift of eyebrow or twist of lip told Jade when to walk and when to lag behind another bush. They moved in jerks and jolts from one bush to another until they were at Farley’s back door.
“What makes you think it will be unlocked?” Jade whispered.
Roy twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. “I told you,” he whispered back. “People are entirely too trusting. Now not another word.” He crooked a finger, inviting her to follow him into the mudroom. They sat on the floor quietly for a moment, listening for the possibility of people in the house. When Roy was sure it was empty, he stood up and moved with more ease.
Jade followed him through the kitchen, down the hallway, into the dining room. The silence in the house was oppressive and she found herself looking along the ceiling for traces of cameras or alarm boxes. She started to tell Roy they should leave, but his lips were pressed firmly together—a warning not to speak. The quiet was so thick, she almost felt like speaking would break a spell and send alarm bells screaming in the air.
Roy came to an abrupt stop, causing her to bump into his back. “All right,” he whispered. “Let’s start taking inventory.”
“Of what?”
Roy pulled out his pen, followed by a blank piece of paper from the back of the clipboard, and handed them to Jade. “I want a list of pieces you think might bring a price and the name of the artist if it’s marked on the piece. I’ll be taking pictures.”
“What for?”
“I’ve done enough for others by donating Farley’s money to the Boys and Girls Club. Now it’s time to take a piece for County Hardware.”
“I’m not stealing anything.” Jade shoved the pen and paper back into Roy’s hands.
“Man, you really are a lousy sidekick. First, you w
imp out on my bank-robbing plan and now you’re bellyaching about making a simple list. I’m not asking you to steal anything. I’ll be the one to post this junk on eBay and when the orders come in, I’ll find a way to get the pieces out of here. The only thing you have to do is write down some information and help me figure out what this stuff is worth. Why did you sneak in here if you weren’t willing to help?”
“You’re better than this, Roy. I get the whole Boys and Girls Club–donation trick and the fish heads and alarm clocks going off down at the Hammer and Nail, but setting up an eBay account to sell stolen goods is illegal.”
“Ease up, that’s what half of eBay is!”
“No it’s not.”
“Fine,” Roy said. “Just stay out of my way.” He started with the bronze bucking-bronco statue on the living room side table. He picked it up and peeked underneath, then pulled out his phone and began taking pictures.
“Farley will notice when stuff starts to go missing,” Jade pressed.
“I’m not gonna sell his big pieces. Just a few of the small ones he won’t miss right away. Shhh!” He raised a hand. The crunch of tires over gravel moved along the side of the house.
Roy snapped another picture, this one of a blue fluted dish on a bookshelf, then jerked his head sideways and they snuck out the front door as Farley came in through the back.
24
When Jade knew Roy was busy with Farley’s puncher the following morning, she went to see Mr. and Mrs. Parker. “It’s because I care about him,” she said, sitting on their green-flowered couch and feeling like the biggest snitch in the world.
“Of course you do, dear.” Mrs. Parker was sitting across from Jade and leaning in, elbows on knees.
“And I’m worried he might be too close to trouble.”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Parker said, head bobbing. “Then it’s good you came to me.”
Jade looked around the room. “Where’s Mr. Parker?”
“William is hanging a door for a neighbor.”
“Oh.” Jade plucked at yellowed stuffing poking out of a small rip in the couch.