"Mrs. Sullivan, we're home," Jeremy said, giving Billy's hand a squeeze. "It looks like Jack Frost beat us here."
Billy looked out the window of the SkyWest airliner as it circled for the approach to the Yellowstone Regional Airport. Because they were arriving at night, the street grid of Cody was lit up with rows of lights, and with everything blanketed in snow, it looked like a Christmas card. It had been a one-and-a-half hour flight that originated in Colorado, where they'd been staying in a motel in Denver for the past six weeks to get familiar with their new background location, and within a few minutes they'd be meeting Roberta Martin, a middle-aged woman who owned a ranch and ran a small cattle operation, and needed a foreman.
Jeremy was given the job, sight unseen, on the basis of Mario's recommendation, and Billy would be a wrangler. The horses had been transported there the week before, along with their furniture and personal belongings. As she understood it, she and Jeremy would occupy a cottage on the ranch, and her dad would live in a small apartment in Cody.
In the imperfect world in which they were living at the moment, it was about as perfect a place for them as she could imagine, except for her concern that her father would have nothing to do in a town with a population of less than 10,000. She did learn that Cody hosted a week-long Birding and Wildlife Festival every spring, with field trips and interactive seminars led by some of the top regional biologists, which her father might be able to get involved in, except that Dr. William Fuller, the eminent entomologist, no longer existed, so he'd have to pose as a self-taught bug lover who just happened to be an authority on the Rocky Mountain locust.
Ironically, they were not far from the place where, twenty-five years before, her father had done some ground-breaking research that solved the mystery of the demise of the Rocky Mountain Locust, and maybe just being in the area would stir up some interest in hiking off with his insect net again, while searching for rare species.
She glanced around Jeremy at her father, who was sitting across the aisle and next to a middle-aged woman who had been trying unsuccessfully to strike up a conversation with him, which he squelched by sticking his nose in a scientific journal.
At the rear of the plane, Mario sat with Diesel. No questions had been asked when Mario flashed his ID card at the Denver airport, and Diesel ambled alongside Mario through all the gates, and once on the plane, jumped onto the seat next to the window, where Billy imagined him with his nose pressed up against the glass, looking out at a town covered in white.
Returning her focus to the scene beyond the window, she said to Jeremy, "I hope Roberta Martin has a four-wheel drive and knows how to drive on icy roads."
Jeremy let out a little short laugh. "From the way Mario talked, she's a take-control woman who could drive a tank through a battle zone. I guess he's known her a while."
"Then let's hope she's easy to live around," Billy said. "She could operate the place like a five-star general and make it pretty miserable for us while we're trying to run her ranch."
Jeremy lifted Billy's hand to his mouth and gave her knuckles a little kiss, and said, "The Sullivans come from tough Irish stock, and we have our trusted cattle dog to help. We'll do fine."
Billy smiled at Jeremy, who always put a positive spin on things.
The wheels touched down and the airplane taxied in. Getting to the terminal from the plane was a simple matter of walking down the plane's built-in stairs and across the tarmac to a small newer building where they walked through a door and found themselves in baggage claim. A few minutes later, their four bags appeared on a carousel with the other passenger's bags, and that was all there was to it. Ten minutes total and they were done.
Mario turned Diesel over to Billy, and said, "Come on. We'll check out front for Roberta and hope she's here. She gets distracted and forgets the time."
As they followed a short distance behind Mario, Billy said, in a lowered voice, "Mario seems to know this woman pretty well. I'm thinking she's housed witnesses on her ranch before."
"I was thinking that too," Jeremy replied. "Maybe that's why she acts like a general. She's had to deal with witnesses like your brother-in-law."
"That would make anyone jaded," Billy said.
As Mario predicted, Roberta wasn't there, and after fifteen minutes, Mario was obviously getting steamed. Billy was both curious, and nervous, about what his reaction would be when the woman finally did arrive. He wasn't a patient man when things didn't go as planned.
About ten minutes later, Mario was in the process of calling on his cell when a dark red Jeep Wrangler with a top rack came wheeling up and stopped at the curb. A woman in what looked like an old leather flight jacket climbed out, and said to Mario, "Toss those bags on top and tie them down and let's get these folks settled."
To Billy's shock, Mario did as the woman ordered, and while he was lifting bags and fastening them down with the rubber ties Roberta had shoved into his hands, Roberta said to Billy and Jeremy, "So you're the newlyweds."
From the woman's tone, Billy wasn't sure whether they were being welcomed, or if Roberta Martin was letting them know they were an inconvenience, but Jeremy, apparently taking the woman's words as a welcome, said to her, "We have a couple of months of married bliss under our belts so we're ready to take on running your ranch."
Roberta eyed Jeremy with curiosity, then one corner of her mouth lifted in a kind of smile, and she said, "That's good, because I'm in the middle of a project right now and I'll need you to take over and run things however you've been doing in the past." She glanced over at Bill, who was standing a little ways off, and said to him, "You'll be staying at my place for a while since the apartment you were supposed to have is occupied. I got sidetracked and the place got filled and it'll be few weeks before another unit will be available."
Mario glared at Roberta while clamping his mouth shut and sending muscles bunching in his jaws, to which Roberta responded by saying, "Don't give me your tough-guy look. That doesn't work with me. I've got a place fixed up for Mr. Murphy and he'll be comfortable."
"That will be fine," Bill said, though the tone of his voice, one Billy knew from way back, said he wasn't fine staying with this woman, but he wouldn't argue with her either, probably because Roberta Martin didn't look like a woman most people would argue with, including Mario. She was obviously a woman who'd lived alone all her adult life and expected to do things her way.
Billy was happy that the Feds allowed her father to remain as her father this time around instead of a wrangler she had to explain away, but with the name Murphy, which was now her fabricated maiden name. It made things easier for her when she addressed him, not having to remind herself each time to call him Bill instead of Dad. She just wished he could have had the title, Dr. Murphy, professor of entomology, from some obscure university. He'd worked years to become the eminent scientist he was, and now he was simply an amateur entomologist with a singular interest in the Rocky Mountain Locust.
Roberta eyed Diesel, who was staring at her in curiosity. "You're a big fella," she said. "You want to give me a paw?" When she extended her hand to Diesel, he flopped a paw against her palm, which made Billy laugh because she'd taught Diesel that trick with the same command.
"His name is Diesel," Billy offered.
"It fits," Roberta replied. Returning to Diesel, she said, "This is only a 5-passenger rig so you'll have to ride in the cargo section behind the rear seat, but you'll do fine. It's only about a twenty minute ride. So let's get in and be on our way. Mario, you'll ride up front."
As instructed, Mario climbed into the passenger seat, and Roberta went around to open the rear hatch for Diesel to jump in, while the rest of them piled into the rear seat.
After checking the tie-downs on top, Roberta climbed into the driver's seat and wheeled the Jeep out of the terminal parking lot and onto the snowy highway leading out of Cody.
As they drove, Billy sat snuggled against Jeremy, not feeling like talking because it had been a long day, but just
enjoying being up against Jeremy with his arm snugly around her, while her father sat silently staring out of his window. But in the front seat, Roberta and Mario were carrying on a curious conversation in quiet, low tones.
"I expected you to call last week," Roberta said. "You've never missed calling on my birthday."
"I thought I'd be here by then but plans got changed," Mario replied.
"You could have told me that before. I worry."
"You know I can take care of myself."
"Still, I worry. Are you staying this time?"
"We'll see how things turn out. Maybe." Mario looked away, peering out of the side window, and Roberta said nothing more, leaving Billy wondering just how far back Mario and Roberta went. She looked at Jeremy, whose face was almost in darkness, except for some residual light from the dashboard, which was enough for her to see that he too was puzzled by the exchange.
Several miles down the highway, Roberta wheeled the jeep onto a narrow snow-covered road, and a few minutes later they arrived at the ranch. It was dark, but a few utility lights sent patterns against the snow, while lighting up the immediate vicinity. The cottage where they'd be living was a small, plain house that looked adequate for them, but unlike the homely cottage, the ranch house was what one would term eclectic. It had two levels, like the roof had been raised at one time and a story added over part of the house. It was also a combination stone and wood, with the main house in stone, and what looked to be a later addition made of wood.
"Come on in my house first and have some eggnog and rum," Roberta said. "It'll warm you up before you go in the cottage. I forgot to turn on the heat until just before I left." She climbed out of the jeep, and the rest of them followed.
Before going inside, Mario said, "I'll skip the hot drink and unload the bags."
"Suit yourself," Roberta replied.
When Jeremy started to help Mario unhook the grommets, Mario said, "I'm fine. You'd better do as you're told." Mario had a little bit of a smile as he said the words, so Billy had to conclude that he wasn't taking Roberta all that serious, but probably learned from past experiences with her that it was better to do as she said than argue, and this was his way of passing it on to Jeremy.
As they were walking with Roberta toward the house, Billy said, "I love your house. How long have you lived here?"
"Twenty-five years," Roberta replied. "Cody's a good place to live. It grows on you."
"Then you weren't born here?" Billy asked.
"No," Roberta said, "but I've been here long enough so it's home now."
Billy thought that an odd way to describe a place where she lived for twenty-five years, like it was finally home, but that thought was set aside the moment they stepped into the house.
It was instantly clear that Roberta was not into home decorating.
The walls were covered with framed arrangements of butterflies, and beetles, and other insect displays, and the entire end of the living room was what looked to be an art studio of sorts, with a long table with paints and brushes and a microscope that was apparently used when making illustrations of insects, as was evident by the plethora of watercolor illustrations.
Billy glanced at her father and saw the gleam of excitement in his eyes as he gazed around the room. Then he turned his attention to Roberta, and said, "Did you collect all of these specimens?"
"Yes," Roberta replied. "Are you interested in bugs?"
Bill nodded. "It can become an obsession."
"I know what you mean. I never cease to be amazed by the beauty of insects." Roberta placed her hand on a frame surrounding a display of dragonflies, and gazing at them, she said, "These tiny jewel-like arthropods are like stunning works of art, and the iridescent colors of beetles, and the wings of moths and butterflies, are an endless brilliant palette."
Bill walked over to the long table, and lifting one of the paintings said, while examining it closely, "Have you been commissioned to do these for someone in particular?"
Roberta shook her head. "I'm putting together a book I'm calling Bugs by Design. The paintings are mostly finished, but they need to be collated and organized, and I have a deadline to meet with a publisher, which is why I need someone to run the ranch."
"Maybe I could help. I've published some." Bill lifted another illustration, one of a butterfly with turquoise-blue wings. "Callophrys sheridanii," he said. "The color of her wings reminds me of looking into the crevice of a glacier."
Roberta eyed him with curiosity. "It's funny you describe the color that way. It's the way it's described in a field guide I have on butterflies. Maybe you're familiar with The Lepidoptera Mosaics by William Fuller?"
Billy was certain her heart skipped several beats, and when she looked at her father, she could see he was stunned. After a long pause, he said, "I'm familiar with it… probably where I got the wording. You have a good understanding of insect morphology," he added, studying the illustration more closely. "I'm impressed."
"You have a good memory for phylum names," Roberta said. "I'm impressed. Do you make a point of remembering all the names?"
Bill laughed. "No. Years ago I spent time not far from here searching for Rocky Mountain Locusts and found myself keeping company with these beautiful little butterflies. Sheridan's Green Hairstreak is her common name, if I recall." He glanced up on the wall just next to the long table, where there was a framed illustration of a single bug, and said, "So, you have an interest in the Rocky Mountain Locust too."
Roberta nodded. "It presented a mystery for a long time. Do you have a theory as to why, after the largest swarm in history was recorded, it suddenly became extinct? The swarm was estimated to have covered an area the size of California, then within 30 years the species disappeared from North America. There's controversy over what caused the die-off, but the entomologist who wrote The Lepidoptera Mosiacs presented the best argument, and it has to do with the area where the butterflies wintered over being cultivated."
"I'm familiar with Fuller's theory," Bill said. "I was… umm… involved with him in the work at Knife Point Glacier here in Wyoming where we removed locusts from the ice and submitted them for DNA analysis and carbon dating, which proved they were the remains of Rocky Mountain Locusts."
Again, Roberta looked at him curiously. After a stretch of silence, she said, "From the locust remains, how did Dr. Fuller come to his conclusion about what caused them to become extinct?"
"Fuller started asking himself, 'what if the locust disappeared, not while in its outbreak mode, but while wintering along the river valleys in the Rockies?' The idea came to him while he was considering the plight of the monarch butterfly. It winters in a relatively small, forested area in Mexico and southern California and is vulnerable during dormancy, and deforestation and cultivation is slowly wiping them out, so why not the same with the locust?"
"Then you had an interest in the monarch butterfly too?" Roberta asked.
"I did at the time," Bill replied, "and the theory about the locust bore out. At the turn of the 19th century farmers moved into the valleys of the Rockies and began plowing fields and flooding the ground and changing the vegetation enough to wipe out the wintering locusts. The question remains, is the locust truly extinct? Colonies could still survive in isolated settings such as the Hayden Valley of Yellowstone Park. It could be worthwhile spending time combing the meadows there. Maybe you'd be interested. Afterwards we could consider putting together an entomological field guide of the insects of the mountain meadows of Hayden Valley."
Roberta looked at him thoughtfully, and said, "A scientist friend of mine from India had an expression that’s stuck with me: ‘When the student is ready, the teacher will come.’"
"Then, is that a yes?" Bill asked.
Roberta smiled. "I thought I just told you it was."
Billy gave Jeremy a little nudge and pointed discretely at her father, who was looking at Roberta with interest, and Roberta definitely had the look of a woman in awe of a man. If there was such a th
ing as soulmates, her father and Roberta Martin surely were.
***
In the quiet hours of the night, and well after they'd settled from their lovemaking, Billy was still too keyed up to sleep. She lay spoon style with Jeremy, with her bare back against his bare belly, and his big body curved around her, while contemplating the evening. When they'd left the Roberta's house, her father and Roberta were still enthusiastically talking bugs.
In fact, Billy's dad had been like a kid on Christmas morning, rushing from package to package, not able to open them fast enough before reaching for the next. But with her dad, the packages were framed displays of bugs, and the most important package of all was a woman who'd caught his interest, and there was no question that he'd caught Roberta's interest as well, and her admiration, for obvious reasons.
Jeremy tightened his arm around her and kissed her on the temple, and said, "I know you're still awake. A penny for your thoughts."
Billy turned in Jeremy's arms so she was facing him, and replied, "I was thinking about Dad and Roberta."
"I was too," Jeremy said. "I'm thinking he'll be staying here after we leave?"
"That too. But I'm sure Roberta knows who Dad is. She figured it out when Dad started talking about how he solved the mystery of the locust by correlating it with the monarch butterfly, and she verified it when she quoted her Hindu friend by saying, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher will come.’ She knows who Dad is, but she's not saying anything because she's afraid if she does, he'll be relocated, and he's not saying anything for the same reason."
"I think you're right," Jeremy said. "The question is, if something develops between them romantically, do you think your dad would tell her then?"
"We're not supposed to reveal who we are ever, even to future spouses," Billy said, "but it's almost impossible not to. When you're living a lie and suddenly find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you can't start out with a lie. The bigger question is, would Mario relocate them if he learned that Roberta knew who Dad was?"
Bucking The Odds (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 9) Page 20