by Stephen Bly
Laramie stepped over to the table. “But some parcels remained private?”
“Yes, that’s when the park service began a campaign to buy everyone out.”
“And your family didn’t want to sell?” Laramie reviewed the papers.
“Not sell. But they offered to trade property.”
Hap caught himself staring at the slight curves in Rosa’s silhouette. “Land swap?”
“Most people didn’t mind an exchange for less rugged and remote land.”
Laramie picked up a stiff yellow document. “Is that an authentic signature of Sam Houston with all those fancy scrolls?”
“I hope so.”
The breeze through the cabin felt pleasant to Hap, like a summer evening in the Bighorns. “So, your family didn’t want to swap land?”
“We weren’t even asked. Certain people in the park service maintain that great-grandfather was Mexican, not Texan. Therefore, he should never have been given the property in the first place. That’s what Davenport informed me.”
Hap forked twelve sizzling slices of sweet-smelling bacon onto a paper towel. “So they don’t want to pay or trade because they claim it’s already theirs.”
“That’s about it. A year ago, as their perceived gesture of goodwill, they notified us to take anything we wanted from the cabin, because it was going to be demolished.”
“So, you’ve been hugging the ranch, so to speak, ever since?” Laramie said.
“That’s about it.”
Hap beat the eggs with a large, almost clean wooden spatula. “So what is it you want from them?” He dug through the sack of groceries for paper plates.
“I know we can’t keep the park from getting the land,” Rosa explained. “This same thing happens around all national parks. I don’t mind that others enjoy it, too. We just want a fair price. Or better than that, some type of equitable land exchange and a couple other assurances. I want to be treated with respect, as a rightful landowner.”
“You said some of this is personal?” Laramie questioned.
“That’s the strange part.” Rosa dug a red apple out of the box. She rolled up her T-shirt and wiped the fruit, which revealed her flat, brown stomach.
Hap jerked his gaze back to the frying pan when the eggs started to burn.
He surveyed the littered shelf behind the stove. Most items showed the dust of years of neglect. “Have you got any pepper?”
“Sorry.” She chomped on the apple and wiped the dribble off her chin with her shirtsleeve. “Davenport arrived as superintendent and assumed dictatorial command. Most of the veteran, year-round staff have transferred out of here.”
“So this jerk, Davenport, marched in and started making trouble?”
“The first thing he did was hit on me. I think he thought he would romance me out of the place. He told me I was the ‘girl of his dreams.’ Can you imagine any man saying that?”
Hap spun around with a pan full of bubbling, snapping eggs. “I can imagine it.”
She stared at Hap as a slow grin broke across her lips.
“Anyway,” he muttered, “what did you say to Davenport?”
“I told him where to go and where to stash his inflated ego. He flew into a rage about cleaning out the illegal squatters from the park.”
Laramie meandered back to the open doorway. “Some men don’t take ‘no’ well.”
“He’s also ticked because he can’t prove any ancestors at the Alamo. He can’t admit that I’m more Texan than he is.”
“The park service won’t put up with a personal vendetta, will they? Did you go above his head?” Hap asked.
“I had a chance to send one long email about a month ago, spelling out my grievances, but I can’t do much else. I haven’t heard back, but to be fair I haven’t checked my email in weeks. Davenport will level this place and lock me out if I leave. It would take months to fight in court. By then, no telling what would happen.”
Hap divided the scrambled eggs onto three paper plates. “These groceries will sustain your misery for another week or so. What then? What is your plan?”
“I counted on Milt to help me out. Most of my family thinks it’s all a lost cause, that there’s no reason to fight. But Mamma made sure the taxes were always paid, as did my grandfather. I think for their sake, and for the sake of great-granddaddy, I need to press the case. I wanted to write an account of the facts, backed up by these documents, and ask Milt to take it to the media. I need someone to know what’s going on here. I don’t even think the other park service people really know what’s happening.”
“Shoot, we can do that for you. We can carry out some papers for the media, can’t we, Laramie?”
“That part seems simple enough.”
The wind picked up and blew the sheet curtains straight into the cabin. Dust off the floor swirled around and Hap tried to shield the eggs with his hat. “Better than just sendin’ a story, why don’t you go out to the newspapers or television yourself? They’re always wantin’ to hype some controversy. Havin’ a purdy gal—an articulate lady such as yourself—will add punch to the complaint.”
“My car won’t run. I think they dumped something in the gas tank.”
Laramie perused the gray Subaru. “They ruined your car? That’s a crime, isn’t it?”
“Only if I can prove it.”
Hap stirred the eggs. “They want to chase you off, and then they sabotage your only way of escape?”
“They aren’t too bright.”
“When you say ‘they,’ do you mean the whole staff here?” Laramie asked.
“Davenport and the two at my gate have been the only ones I’ve known to take an active part. The regular staff seems afraid to even talk to me, but they’ve never harassed me. I don’t think those two guards are even park service guys.”
Hap carried over the plates piled with steaming food. The aroma of smoke and sweet fried meat permeated the room. “Hey, listen to this plan… one of us will sneak you out. The other will stay to protect the place.”
He pulled up an old wooden trunk to use as a chair, then crammed a forkful of steaming eggs in his mouth. “You see,” he mumbled, “Davenport expects us out of here by sundown. We have to pick up our trailer and horses. He’ll be so happy to see us go, I reckon he won’t check real close who’s in the truck.”
Rosa padded barefoot across the rough wooden floor to retrieve a large bottle of red sauce. Her calloused feet left tracks in the dust. She handed the bottle to Hap.
He took it and grinned. “A gal who likes Tabasco? Will you marry me?”
“No.” She plopped back in her chair. “It’s a well-known sociological fact that spice-based relationships are doomed to fail. Now, how are you going to sneak me past Davenport?”
Hap swamped his eggs with red Tabasco. “I figure we wait until almost dark and pull a hat down over your eyes. We can drive straight to Fort Stockton or Odessa, arrange an interview, and sneak you back to the cabin by daylight.”
“If I get out, I need to get to a computer. There’s no electricity here.” Rosa chomped a huge bite of steaming Tabasco-drenched eggs.
Laramie strode over to the open doorway, plate of food in hand. “Sounds to me like a bad plan that doesn’t have a chance.”
“Good.” Hap wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “That’s something we’re used to.” He dug through the grocery sack. “I thought for sure we bought a jar of pickles.”
Rosa untied the bandanna from around her neck and wiped her narrow chin. “I had some homemade ones, but that was supper, last week.”
Hap jumped up. “Good grief, do you see that, Laramie? Come here, quick.”
“What?” Rosa’s hand flew to her face. “What are you looking at? What’s wrong with me?”
“Absolutely nothing. I’m looking at the birthmark under your right ear.”
She covered her neck with her hand. “Technically, it’s not a birthmark. I mean, I was born with it… lots of women on my mother’s side of
the family have it. But they say birthmarks are not genetic. We just call it ‘the mark.’ So what?”
Laramie shook his head and muttered, “I’ll be. I never thought we’d see one of those.”
“I’m sorry if it looks ugly.”
“Just the opposite, it looks wonderful… beautiful,” Hap exclaimed.
“I’ve never had anyone say that before. It’s always made me self-conscious. That’s why the bandanna.”
“Did you say other women in your family have a similar mark?” Hap probed.
“Most all. They have different shapes and sizes.”
Hap took a deep breath. His eyes glazed over. “Have you got any relatives named… Juanita?”
“Half the women on the Rodríguez side of the family are named Juanita. What’s this all about?”
Hap shot his arms in the air. “There is a God in heaven!”
“Are you going to preach?”
“I’m going to tell you of a quest so exciting, it will rivet you to the edge of your chair.”
“I think I’ll go out on the porch and take a nap,” Laramie groaned.
The sun blazed, then teetered on the edge of the horizon like a big red ball about to roll off the edge of the table.
“Take care of yourself, partner,” Hap called as they climbed into the truck.
“You’re the one taking all the chances. I’m just sitting here, waiting. I’m about two days shy of sleep, so I won’t mind some peace and quiet. But if you two aren’t back by the time the groceries run out, I’m leaving.”
“Give us twenty-four hours,” Rosa said, adjusting the cuffs of Laramie’s blue denim jacket, which was bulky on her smaller frame. “After that, just hike out of here.”
When they drove to the gate, Rosa slumped down in the seat, Hap’s black beaver felt hat pulled over her face.
Hap honked, and Ferguson swung open the gate. After they drove through, he signaled for them to stop as he surveyed the truck. “What happened to your buddy?”
“What happened to yours?” Hap challenged.
“He’s sleeping. It’s my turn for night duty.”
“Laramie got sick. That Mexican gal fed us a bunch of strange vegetables. I passed on them, but Laramie chowed down. They didn’t sit well with him.”
“Vegetables? She tried to kill you. We sprayed them with weed killer.”
“That’s nice to hear. Then we’ll know who to sue.”
“You can’t sue us. We don’t even exist. We aren’t on the government record. We’re a private security operation. On loan, so to speak.”
Rosa groaned in a deep, raspy voice.
“What did he say?” Manny leaned closer.
“I don’t know, but I want to reach Fort Stockton to get his stomach pumped before he barfs all over my truck again.”
Hap lurched the rig forward. Ferguson closed the gate behind them.
When they broke out of the trees, Hap patted her knee. “Okay, girl, you can breathe easy for a while.”
“Not all those groans were phony.”
“You gettin’ sick?”
“I think I ate too much, too fast.”
“You let me know if you want me to stop.”
“You haven’t done anything yet.”
Hap felt his neck and face warm. “No… I meant…”
“I know what you meant. For a cowboy, you certainly blush easy.”
“You ambushed me with that tease.”
“It’s been a long time since I could relax enough to tease.”
Hap turned right at Basin Junction. The sun dropped. The air bristled with a tinge of chill.
Rosa pulled off the hat. “I’m not used to wearing this. No one can see me in here now anyway.” She twirled the hat in her hand. “I can’t believe you two would do all of this for me.”
“Chalk it up to the cowboy code. You’re Milt’s sister and he couldn’t be here. I’d appreciate some cowboy pal of mine lookin’ after my sis, if she needed the help.”
“Yes, Milt is that way. But I still say, you don’t know much about me.”
“That’s not true. Milt told us lots.”
“Like what?”
“He said you were a really smart, stubborn, opinionated woman who was too forceful and driven to get married.”
“Milt blabbed all that?”
“Yeah, is it true?”
She drummed her fingers on her leg. “Yes, but I don’t like hearing it.”
“Rosa… win or lose, this land conflict will be over someday. What then? Where is your life headed?”
“Geez, Hap… what is this? I want to get out, hold a press conference, and get back to the cabin. I want to make a scene over the government grabbing private property. I don’t have any more plans than that. Just out of the blue, you decide to go philosophical on me? Don’t ask such personal questions. You’re beginning to sound like Dr. Phil.”
“Okay, I’ll change the subject. No more brain-numbing discussions of life goals. No politics. No social causes. Let’s relax and talk about something generic.”
Rosa let out a deep sigh. “Good.”
Hap scratched his forehead. “Why don’t you wear a bra?”
Rosa burst out laughing. “I love it. Now, that’s a nice, neutral, nonphilosophical question. It’s a no-brainer and not a feminist statement. I left some clothes drying on a short clothesline stretched between the trees behind the cabin. The jerks came in and stole them one night.”
“Kind of like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. They’re tryin’ to make it so miserable that you’ll leave. It’s a wonder they didn’t poison the spring.”
“They don’t dare. A couple years ago, before this harassment began, the University of Texas conducted a study on natural springs all over the state. The Rodríguez Ranch on Panther Mountain rated the purest natural water in west Texas. I think even Davenport is afraid to contaminate it. Besides, it supplies most of the park residences as well.”
“We’re close to the entrance. Put my hat back on and play sick. I’ll hook up the trailer and load the horses.”
Under the dim glow of streetlights, Hap backed up to the horse trailer. When he led the horses from the corrals, Erika waited for him.
Hap nodded. “Thanks for lookin’ in on the horses. I didn’t figure you’d still be on duty.”
“I’m not. This is my own time.” She peered across the pickup at the office entrance.
“Is Davenport still here?”
“Yeah, I expect him to barrel out any minute. I probably shouldn’t be talking to you. But you need to know something before he does. Then I need to know something.”
Hap handed her Tully’s lead rope, then walked Luke up into the trailer. “What do I need to know?”
“Those two guys at the gate of her place are not park service employees. They work for Davenport. The two trucks they drive are registered to ‘Out West Development Corporation, East Orange, New Jersey.’ This is not a park service dispute, but everyone’s afraid to investigate further. Most of us are just summer employees and we need the work. Official complaints have been filed, but everything takes a long time to process. We think Davenport’s about to be transferred or fired. It isn’t the first time he’s gone on a vendetta. If Rosa can hang on a while, this could be settled.”
“Thanks for the info.”
“Now, there is one thing you have to explain to me.”
“What’s that?”
“Why in the world is Rosa Rodríguez Tryor slouched in the front seat of your pickup with your cowboy hat pulled down over her face?”
“Obvious, huh? We’re headed out to the newspapers to tell her story. I’m going to get her back before daylight.”
“Your partner is at the Rodríguez Ranch?”
“Yep.”
“If Davenport finds out she’s gone, he’ll go ballistic and bulldoze the place tonight.”
Hap looped his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “I’m hopin’ a Rapid City cowgirl like you will keep it to herself.”
“I won’t say a thing. What newspaper are you going to talk to?”
“Probably the one in Fort Stockton, but we’re hopin’ for broader coverage.”
“My college roommate works for a newspaper in Odessa. She’s not a reporter or anything, but let me call her. Do you know where Tiny’s Café is in Fort Stockton?”
“We’ll find it.”
“I’ll see if I can get someone to meet you there for a story. If no one’s there, I didn’t have any luck. Go on, now. Here comes Davenport.”
Hap slipped into the pickup.
“What are you doing out here?” Davenport called out to Erika.
“You told us to make sure they got out by dark. I thought that meant supervising the loading of the horses.” Erika strolled off toward staff housing.
Davenport marched over to the pickup. “I could have you arrested right now.”
Hap closed the door, but rolled down his window. “For taking groceries to a hungry woman? Are bread and eggs contraband in a national park?”
“The illegal transportation of firearms is.”
“What firearms?”
“You’ve got two Winchester carbines in the saddle compartment of the horse trailer.”
“We didn’t transport them anywhere. We left them at the entrance.”
“You came 150 feet within the park. I have the legal right to arrest you.”
“I just followed your instructions.”
“You could be jailed.”
“Not without a court fight.”
“Don’t threaten me with judicial blackmail.”
“No threat. A court case might be nice. Then you could explain by what authority you searched our trailer by busting a padlock without permission. In fact, it provides the perfect platform for me to describe the emaciated and wretched condition we found Rosa Rodríguez Tryor in as you tried to starve her out of her own legal property. What do you think, partner? Let’s get arrested.”
“No… wait,” Davenport cautioned. “I didn’t say I was going to arrest you. I merely mentioned I had sufficient grounds. Now, if you two drive off and I never see you again, I’ll get so busy with other duties, I won’t even remember your names.”