“Come on, Rose,” Shannon said, taking her daughter’s hand to give herself the courage to climb the porch steps, knock on the door and talk to the most influential rancher in Bear Paw.
When the door swung inward, Shannon instantly recognized the woman who stood before her. Ten years had changed her, but not that much. She was a little thinner, had a little more gray hair, but she was still the attractive, capable woman who had raised five kids and worked as hard as her husband to keep their ranch afloat while always being what the cowboys would refer to as “a real lady.”
“Hello, Mrs. Bannon,” she said.
“Shannon!” Eva Bannon’s expression was a mixture of glad surprise and apprehension. “Boyd’s not home. He left for town about half an hour ago. You must’ve just missed him on the road in.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to come by to say hello and introduce you to my daughter, Rose,” Shannon said with a genuine smile. “Rose, this is Mrs. Bannon. She used to babysit me when I was your age. She and my momma were good friends, and Mrs. Bannon made the best gingersnap cookies in the whole wide world.”
“Hello, Rose,” Mrs. Bannon said, shaking the little girl’s hand. She opened the door wide. “Come inside. I have some of those very same gingersnaps in my cookie jar and a pitcher of homemade lemonade in the ice box. I heard you were in town again,” she said to Shannon. “Your father must be glad.”
“Well, that’s up for debate,” Shannon laughed as Mrs. Bannon showed them into the tidy kitchen, about twenty years more modern than her father’s, sat them at the table, and poured tall glasses of real homemade lemonade and offered a plate of her legendary gingersnaps. The lemonade had just the right tartness and the gingersnaps made Shannon close her eyes with a rapturous sigh. “Just like I remember,” she said. “Try a cookie, Rose.”
“She’s a lovely child.”
“I’ve been blessed,” Shannon said, watching Rose nibble a cookie. “Good?”
Rose nodded. “Good, Momma. Better than yours.”
Small talk ensued and the visit became almost a normal social call, but when Rose left the table to pursue a calico cat that strutted through the kitchen, Mrs. Bannon reached out and took Shannon’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry about what’s happened.”
“Me, too. I was hoping to talk to Mr. Bannon about it. My father didn’t do anything to that met tower up on Wolf Butte. He has photos that prove the tower was already down back in May, but he’s so stubborn headed he wouldn’t show them to the sheriff last night.”
Eva shook her head. “It’s hard times here, Shannon. Cattle prices are down and grain prices are sky-high because of government ethanol mandates. That’s driven the price of everything else through the roof. We’re hanging on by our fingernails trying to put the kids through school and hold on to the ranch.
“When this wind company came to town and talked about the money and jobs, we believed it was our saving grace. They met with all the big landowners, your father included. Boyd signed the lease. He doesn’t give a hoot about renewable energy, but he’d do anything to keep this ranch afloat and to keep our youngest daughter, Miranda, in college. She’s a sophomore at Wyoming State, majoring in microbiology.
“She’s smart, and she won a generous scholarship that helped her with the first year. But if we don’t get that turbine money, she’ll have to drop out. All she ever wanted was to be a pediatrician and work with young kids. Boyd and I did all we could to help her. We’d do anything to help our kids.”
“So would I,” Shannon said softly, gazing to where Rose sat cross-legged in the next room, playing with the cat. The soft rhythmic tick of the Regulator clock on the kitchen wall filled a silence that the two women shared, each deep in her own thoughts.
“Boyd’s not a bad man, Shannon,” Eva continued. “He’s just desperate. We need the money from those leases. I understand how your father feels about the wind turbines being built on Wolf Butte. Your mother loved that butte. That’s why your father spread her ashes there.”
Shannon felt a jolt of shock. “What?”
“He asked Boyd if he could, and of course Boyd agreed. This was four or five years ago. I thought you knew.”
Shannon shook her head. “When I left, her ashes were still in his bedroom.”
Eva nodded. “She was the love of his life.”
“Yes, she was,” Shannon said softly, remembering all the good times, how devoted her parents were to each other and how they’d surrounded her with love like a warm blanket. “He never recovered from losing her.” She suddenly understood the reason for the cairn of stones that had been the focal point in the three photos that Henry had given her father. That shrine had been built in honor of her mother.
“My mother loved those eagles. The turbines will kill the eagles and destroy their habitat. Patriot wants to build the turbines right along Wolf Butte, the very same place my father spread her ashes. I think I finally understand why he’s so dead set against this project.”
She spoke slowly, thoughtfully, gazing at Eva Bannon but seeing the lone eagle that had circled above her at sunset the evening she’d opened Travis Roy’s check. “There’s no way I’m going to change his mind about this wind project.”
“I know,” Eva said. “They used to be best friends, Boyd and your father. That’s the worst tragedy of all. This energy project has torn Bear Paw apart, and it’ll never be the same place it was. Friends and family see each other in town and cross the street to avoid having to speak to each other. What happened to you last Saturday at the wind company’s barbecue was unforgivable.”
She sat in silence for a moment, then squared her shoulders. “Boyd’s at Patriot Energy’s office this morning, if you want to talk to him about the photos. He had a meeting with Tom Carroll and one of the project’s lawyers. Their office is on Main Street where Eddie Polk’s barbershop used to be. There’s a flag in the window. Very patriotic of them.” She met Shannon’s surprised look with a thin smile. “I did a little research of my own when Patriot Energy first came to town. Boyd’s no fool. He knows this project will scar the land he loves forever and take away his control of it. But we need the money, Shannon. That’s the bottom line. It’s all about the money.”
“I understand, and I appreciate your hospitality, Eva, and everything you’ve done for my family over the years,” Shannon said, rising to her feet. “You were as good a friend to my mother as Boyd was to my father. I’m sorry things have turned so bad between them.”
Eva stood. “They say time heals all wounds, and I hope that’s true, for all our sakes. It was good to see you, Shannon. We’re so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.”
Shannon impulsively hugged the strong, slender woman, eyes stinging with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered past the painful cramp in her throat, and minutes later she was buckling her daughter into the back seat of the car and heading for Bear Paw. The fences may never be mended between her father and the Bannons, but she had to try.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BILLY MAC SPENT the better part of the morning working with the mustangs while McTavish watched. The only horse he avoided was Khola. The little bay warily watched everything Billy did with the other mustangs. When McTavish asked him why he kept passing Khola by, Billy explained as best he could.
“Shannon’s taken with that horse,” he said. “She’s worked real hard with him, and he’s a real hard horse to work with. Wilder than the rest, skittish and jumpy. He’s finally to the point where he trusts her, and she got the saddle on him yesterday without too much fuss. She wants to be the first one ride him.”
“That’s foolish talk,” McTavish said bluntly. “You climb aboard that horse before she gets back. Take the edge off him so’s she doesn’t go and get herself killed trying to prove she’s as good as her mother was. Shannon might be a great country-and-western singer, but she’s no horse whisperer.”
“Don’t sell her
short. She’s done a great job with these horses. She’s worked hard ever since she got home.”
McTavish tossed a grass stem into the round pen. “I know it.”
“We’re lucky she’s stuck around.”
“I know that, too.” Voice lower now, edges softened by emotions McTavish struggled to keep hidden.
“She’ll skin me alive if she finds out I rode her horse,” Billy said. “That’s no joke.”
McTavish plucked another stem of tall grass with his good hand and gestured with it to make his point. “She’ll get over a big mad, but broken bones take a long time to heal. Besides, that horse belongs to the BLM and they’ll be picking him and all the others up pretty quick.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to keep a few younger horses around the place,” Billy suggested.
“That’s foolish talk, too. Hay burners is all those useless critters are. Two old hay burners is enough.”
“Khola’s fast. Fastest horse I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a few. He could win that race at the fall fair and that prize money would keep us in beans and franks all winter long. It’s about time a McTavish won that race again.”
McTavish laughed. “You’re dreaming now, son. But get that saddle onto him and show me what he can do. Then we’ll talk.”
* * *
THE DRIVE INTO town took half an hour, mostly because Shannon drove the dirt roads slowly, practicing what she’d say to Boyd Bannon.
“Momma, why are you talking to yourself?” Rose interrupted from the back seat.
Shannon blew out her breath. “Because I’m rehearsing what I’m going to say to a man who’s very mad at us.”
“Why’s he mad, Momma?”
“Because your grampy’s standing in the way of something he really wants. Something he really needs.”
“Why’s Grampy being so mean to him?”
“He’s not, sweetie, not really. Your grampy’s just standing up for something he believes in, but Mr. Bannon doesn’t believe in the same thing.”
“You mean, like God?”
“Sort of. Money can have that same effect on people.”
“We have to talk to Grampy and make him stop being mean.”
“Well, the thing is, Mr. Bannon’s being mean to your grampy, too.”
“Then they both have to stop being mean to each other.”
“You’re right, Rose.” Shannon glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled at her child, a child who believed all of life’s problems could be solved by simply stating the obvious solutions. “That’s exactly what I’m going to tell them.”
* * *
PATRIOT ENERGY’S OFFICE was housed in a narrow brick building tucked between the hardware store and the gas station. The window fronting Main Street needed washing, and the large flag that had been tacked over it, just beneath the Patriot Energy sign, had come unfastened at one upper corner.
Shannon took Rose’s hand in hers and paused outside the door for a brief moment to collect her thoughts, then opened the door and stepped inside, pausing while her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. There were no staff present in the front office. A large desk dominated the room, with a big office chair behind it and several metal folding chairs scattered in front of it. Four easels were set up on the right-hand side of the room, displaying large land maps liberally studded with small red pins.
Shannon stepped closer to study the maps, searching for her father’s land. She was surprised to see that even though he wasn’t a participating landowner, his property was covered with red pins. Roads had been drawn on the map, running along the ridgelines and connecting the red pins to each other. She counted the pins on her father’s land. “Fifteen red pins, five blue,” she murmured aloud. She followed the line of red pins onto Boyd Bannon’s land and counted twenty more, five of them on Wolf Butte. The pins weren’t all on ridgelines, some were in the valley, too. Between all four land maps, there were scores of little red pins signifying the one hundred and seventy-five wind turbines proposed by Patriot Energy.
“Wow,” she breathed, trying to picture the iconic beauty of their valley and mountains transformed into an industrialized landscape of transmission lines and wind turbines, the night sky studded with blinking red lights atop towers as high as skyscrapers.
The door in the back of the office opened suddenly, startling her. Tom Carroll stepped into the room, followed by Boyd Bannon. Both men halted abruptly, surprised to see her. Carroll was the first to recover. He crossed the room and stuck out his hand. “Shannon. I was hoping you’d stop by. We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” Shannon agreed, cooly ignoring his outstretched hand.
Carroll dropped his hand and flushed. “I’m sorry about what happened at the Grange on Saturday, and I’m sorry about the charges we were forced to file against your father.”
Shannon looked over Carroll’s shoulder. “Mr. Bannon, I just came from a visit with your wife. She helped me to understand why my father was so dead set against this wind project. My mother’s love for that place on Wolf Butte and for the eagles she rehabilitated... She told me you allowed my father to spread her ashes there. That was kind of you, and I’m grateful.”
“Your gratitude doesn’t change anything,” Bannon said, stepping around Carroll with his tough-man swagger. He was tough, too. He was as tough as her father, and Shannon knew it. “Your father trespassed on my land and tore down a met tower. Those charges will stick.”
“That’s why I’m here. We have proof that the tower was already down in May. Date-stamped photos.”
Bannon barked a harsh laugh. “No judge and jury would ever believe those photos were real. He’s bluffing, and I’m calling his bluff. You can call it blackmail if you want, but if he doesn’t sign on with this wind energy project, we’re not dropping those charges. I can guarantee it.”
Shannon gripped Rose’s hand so tightly that her daughter made a noise of protest. She relaxed her grip, but her nerves were drawn taut. “Mr. Bannon, I understand why you need the lease money, but my father didn’t tear down that tower and there’s a whole tribe of Shoshone who’ll testify to that in a court of law.”
“That’s a bunch of cow manure,” Bannon said. “Your father’s friends with the people of the tribe. They’d say anything for him.”
Shannon fought to keep her cool. “The Shoshone hold a spiritual gathering up on Wolf Butte every May to commemorate a historic battle they fought there against the Crow. This past May one of them took photos of a shrine built of stones to honor my mother. They called her Eagle Woman. Biagwei’yaa Wa’ipi. They took the photos to show my father how they had honored her by building the shrine. In the photos, you can see the tower had already collapsed.”
Boyd Bannon’s face darkened. “One way or the other, this wind project’s being built, and the sooner your father learns to live with that, the better off we’ll all be.”
* * *
SHANNON WAS STILL shaking with anger when she stopped at Willard’s for Rose’s ice cream and a few groceries. Rose made a beeline for the ice cream freezer, standing in rapturous admiration of the frozen treats tucked inside the glass-topped chest. It would take her a few minutes to make her choice, giving Shannon time to shop. She fumbled in her jeans pocket for the list she’d scrawled at the breakfast table, but her stomach was churning and the last thing she felt like doing was shopping for groceries.
She pushed the little cart up and down the narrow aisles, wondering who the best lawyer in the area was. She could ask Willard. He’d know. She’d feel him out about the wind project, too. She wondered which side of the fence he was on, since he wasn’t one of the big landowners who stood to gain annual lease payments from the wind company.
But when she asked the cashier at the checkout counter if Willard was around, the teenage girl with a freckled face and friendly smile that showcased a mouthful of braces shook her head. “Gone fis
hin’.”
Shannon placed the groceries on the counter. “Come on, Rose, hurry up and choose your ice cream. This train’s about to leave the station.”
There was a coffee can on the counter, a hand-lettered sign taped around it asking for donations for the Hewin family, who’d lost their entire hay crop in a barn fire. Shannon remembered when a similar can had been on this counter to raise donations toward her mother’s medical bills. She fished through her purse and stuffed three twenties into the can. “When was the fire?” she asked the girl.
“Two nights ago. They lost their hay barn and their chicken house, but nobody was hurt. Just the chickens.”
“Did they have insurance?”
A head shake. “Couldn’t afford it. There’s a spaghetti supper at the Grange Hall tonight to raise money. Starts at five, one seating. Ten bucks a head. I helped my mother make the spaghetti sauce last night,” she added proudly.
“We’ll be there. Thank you.” Shannon paid for her groceries and Rose’s ice cream bar, corralled her daughter and carried her bags out to the car.
Her morning mission hadn’t taken nearly as long as she’d anticipated. There’d be plenty of time to feed everyone lunch and spend the afternoon working with Khola.
It was the only thing she could think of that would take her mind off the mess her family and this town was in.
* * *
BILLY QUICKLY REALIZED he’d made a big mistake. Khola had been born in the high desert of Nevada and knew how to run. And run he did, hoofbeats drumming like machine-gun fire on the hard dry soil, kicking up a trail of dust that rose into the hot summer air. Billy had no control over the mustang whatsoever and could only hope the bay ran out of steam before he reached the back fence line. That fence should turn the bay gelding and keep him from running right over the top of the Rocky Mountains.
Knowing Shannon was going to attempt to ride the mustang that afternoon, he’d decided McTavish was right, and it was a good idea to take the edge off the horse before she returned. But he hadn’t expected the explosion of rebellious power underneath him the moment McTavish opened the corral gate. Three tremendous stiff-legged leaps were followed by a pitching fit that nearly sent Billy to the moon several times before morphing into a series of jackrabbit jumps. He heard McTavish let out a cowboy whoop behind him as the mustang pinned his ears back, flattened out and hit top speed. Within moments they’d left the ranch buildings far behind.
A Family For Rose Page 17