Wolf jabbed his thumb toward Shaw. “I reckon he thinks they’re irreplaceable, too.”
Two young children, accompanied by a woman, stepped up so Buffy could see them against the expanse of South Dakota sky. They were right where Bill had headed when he’d taken off. Shaw had said Sally wasn’t the only little kid in the world.
“They must have been out riding.” Wolf crossed his arms as he studied the small group. “There’s a wetland over there with a lake. The Shaws go picnicking right after church most Sundays. When Wyatt saw the buffalo tearing that way, he figured his twins were goners if he didn’t do something drastic.”
Buffy had to stop scowling and admit she was wrong, in every way, right down the line, which made her mad and set her to scowling again. She stared at Shaw, who pulled even with the children and swung himself off his horse with the graceful motion of a healthy animal. He turned back to look at her, and even from a distance that by now was a hundred yards, she could see him fuming. The woman took the horse’s reins, and the boys grabbed his hands.
One of them hollered, “Did you shoot the buffaler, Dad?”
“Did you blow it into a million pieces of steak?” the other one asked.
The foursome dropped over the horizon.
“And he wasn’t trying to kill the buffalo. He shot alongside it to turn it. He was herding it toward my tranq gun.”
“That’s why you told me not to drive straight toward Bill.” Buffy glanced at Wolf. She’d only met him when she’d introduced herself as the new boss and arranged a crew to unload the bull she’d brought. But he had a reputation that was unrivaled when it came to buffalo. “You knew even then what he was doing?”
Wolf shrugged. His braids swung slightly against his beaded vest. “I thought maybe he had that in mind. It didn’t matter if he was herding it toward us on purpose or by accident. Why get in his way?”
“He could have just missed,” Buffy pointed out. “You said yourself it’s nearly impossible to hit anything from the back of a running horse or the seat of a moving truck.”
“That’s me. That’s most men. But Shaw, now there’s a man who hits what he aims at. Oh, he was mad enough to kill the buff, and I thought at first he meant to. He’d’ve been within his rights.”
Buffy heard an engine behind her and turned to see a rig, pulling the stock trailer they’d left behind, coming out to help. “The legal right to do something doesn’t mean you should.”
Wolf gave her a long considering look that set her back a little. His eyes were the bottomless black of his Sioux ancestors. His battered brown Stetson with the brightly beaded hatband was part of him, just like the buffalo and the land.
The solidness and wisdom of his gaze helped Buffy get ahold of herself. She had been overreacting from the minute that buffalo had slammed her into the ground. She could still feel the adrenaline humming.
“You aren’t one’a them that puts an animal’s life on an even keel with a human’s, are you?” Wolf asked with cool interest. “I’m all for raisin’ buff. I like the sight of them on this land, and it heals something in my soul to tend them. But if you think he should have let that buffalo hurt his children rather than shoot it, then I need to start job huntin’.”
Buffy blanched. Wolf Running Shield had been here from the beginning. She had the credentials and the education to put a scientific face on this experiment in creating a buffalo commons in the Midwest, but she was just here for three months to work on her doctoral dissertation. Wolf was here for the duration. He was the man who ran this place. Without so much as an hour of college classes—and some suspicion about his years in high school—the man was a legend for his skill in handling buffalo. Leonard was calling Buffy the director of the Buffalo Commons because her advanced degrees put a shine on the place, but everyone knew Wolf was in charge.
If she had lost Bill, she’d have been fired. If she lost Wolf, they’d send her barefoot down a thorny road back to Oklahoma. They’d have her Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree rescinded. They might assign her to study buffalo in another country, one where women had to wear veils. And she’d deserve it.
“I can’t believe you said that.” She sounded frantic, which she was. But she also meant it. Since she still had adrenaline coursing through her veins, she snapped, “Of course I don’t think such a thing. I was just upset, and I didn’t know his family was there. I’d have shot the bull myself before I let it touch one of those children.”
“That’s quite a hot button you got there, girl. You got any control over it?” Wolf asked, crossing his arms.
She took a couple of deep breaths and unclenched her fists. “I think having a buffalo run over me kind of overloaded my circuits. I’m sorry. And I shouldn’t have yelled at Shaw either.”
Buffy looked back at the now-empty horizon. “I suppose I owe the man an apology.”
“And a thank-you,” Wolf said.
She narrowed her eyes at the horizon. “I’d better hand that over, too.”
“Yeah, Mr. Leonard is a stickler for community relations.” Wolf mentioned the big boss, the one whose money was propping up this whole experiment.
“Besides that,” Buffy muttered, “if I don’t, I’m a coward and a lousy human being.”
“Good point.” Wolf walked away to kneel beside Bill and pull the dart out of his chest.
Buffy looked at the rolling hills of grass that looked level but hid swell after swell. It apparently also hid children and ponds, buffalo, and heavily armed ranchers.
The Commons truck pulled up. A cowhand climbed out. “We’ve never had one get away like that before. Wonder what riled him up?”
“He’s a buffalo,” Wolf said, as if that explained everything.
Buffy decided it did.
Wolf nodded and turned to Buffy. “Might’ez well go on back to the house. We can handle this.”
Buffy didn’t like it. Wolf was testing her. Did she pass the test if she stayed to the bitter end? Or did she pass the test if she left the buffalo in his capable hands?
She didn’t know—which was probably the real test.
Bill was as still as death. She went over and knelt beside him and laid her hands on his chest. It rose and fell steadily. He was strong, even lying here. He didn’t need anybody. If someone pushed him, he pushed back hard. She fiercely loved him and his kind. She prayed every day she could be just like them.
She headed home to clean up and get on with her apology to Wyatt Shaw. But first she had a few things to say to Sally’s irresponsible mother.
Jeanie had been through a terrible year since her tyrant of a husband had deserted her. Buffy was glad to see the end of Michael Davidson, but Jeanie had let the man run everything. Without him, she was lost, and she blamed herself for Michael’s desertion. She covered her sense of failure with sullen indifference and occasional outright hostility.
Right now Buffy’s temper was still simmering, and it might not be wise to confront Jeanie. If Jeanie got upset enough to leave, what would happen to Sally? Jeanie barely paid attention to the little sweetheart. But Buffy had to go in that house. And Jeanie wouldn’t let Buffy get past her without saying something that Buffy would take exception to.
Feeling the full weight of messing up her first day at The Commons, dealing with her sister, and atoning for her rude behavior to Wyatt Shaw, Buffy trudged toward the house.
Two
“I’m leaving.” Jeanie swung the door open before Buffy got to it.
Having Jeanie on a rampage didn’t alter Buffy’s plans to keep cool.
Jeanie was three inches shorter, all blond curls bought at a beauty shop, generous curves, and pink lips used mainly for complaining.
Buffy was lanky, with straight brown hair that would have been in her standard no-nonsense braid if she hadn’t lost her rubber band in the mud.
“You should have heard what that jerk said to me. I’m not living like this. Get us out of here.”
“What did he say?”
; “He glared at me and said, ‘I got cows who’re better babysitters than you.’ ”
Buffy choked on a laugh. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it to sound as bad as it did. A mama cow is a very good mother. I’m going over to see him right now. I’ll tell him how upset you were and insist he never speak to you again.”
A calculating look came into Jeanie’s eyes. “He was good-looking, wasn’t he?”
“Who?” Buffy couldn’t believe the turnaround. “Shaw? The jerk?”
Jeanie narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t say I liked him. I just noticed he was attractive.”
Jeanie had to find a new man to run her life one of these days. Shaw might be the perfect answer, but Buffy couldn’t quite squash her uneasiness. “I’m on my way over to see the good-looking jerk. He helped me catch Bill.”
“Who is Bill?” Jeanie brushed her mauve fingertips through her blond hair.
“Bill?” Buffy prompted. “The buffalo we just spent two days hauling across three states?”
“Oh yeah, him.” Jeanie waved away the buffalo that was so dear to Buffy’s heart.
“Anyway, Mr. Leonard is big on community relations. So now I need to face a very angry man and apologize. I expect him to hand me my head. If you want to ask him out on a date, I’ll take my head and quietly hold it in my lap while you hit on him.”
Jeanie sniffed. “I’ll wait until he’s not quite so mad. You go fix the mess you made, and maybe I’ll drive over and see him in a week or so.”
“Okay.” Buffy nodded her head, and a clump of muddy hair came unglued from the rat’s nest on her head and swung around and slapped her in the face. “I’m going to take a shower first.”
Jeanie sniffed again, and this time Buffy was pretty sure that it was a commentary on how Buffy smelled.
Jeanie had cut ties with their parents when, over their father’s objections, she ran off to marry Michael. Buffy had cut those same ties just because she had a functioning brain.
Now Jeanie had nowhere to go and no one to do her thinking for her except Buffy—not a job Buffy had applied for. She walked away before she could say any of the things she wanted to—about how hard work sometimes got a person dirty, and it was nothing to sniff at, and Jeanie should try it sometime.
❧
“An’ then you pulled your gun and blasted that nasty ol’ buffaler right into a million pieces of steak, right, Dad?” Cody acted out the gunshot and fell to the ground in a poor imitation of a dying buffalo.
“You took out your gun, and you hung from the neck of your horse, holding the reins in your teeth.” Colt snagged the collar of his T-shirt between his teeth and talked around the fabric. “Then you blew him away.”
Cody started shooting his finger at Colt. Colt “died” with a lot of screaming; then he sprang to his feet and started shooting back. The boys ran in circles, shrieking and pretending games of horrible, painful death—all in good fun.
The house wasn’t large. The upstairs family room had been converted to a makeshift bedroom for Wyatt’s sixteen-year-old niece, Anna, for the summer. Anna had come faithfully every summer since Jessica had died. Wyatt didn’t know what he’d have done without her for the last four years.
Wyatt turned the page on the Sunday paper and let the boys scream and knock over the kitchen furniture.
It kept them occupied.
He was sitting there when he heard a pounding on his front door. Once he noticed it, he had the impression that maybe the pounding had been going on for a while. He’d just chalked the sound up to thundering footsteps and falling bodies. He laid aside his paper irritably. “Who in Sam Hill comes to my front door?”
Wyatt had to go into a room he never used, although Anna had dusted it the other day. He went to the front door and had to fiddle with the dead bolt for a while, because he didn’t remember which way to turn it. “I’m coming. Hold your”—he swung open the door on that little wildcat from the Buffalo Commons—“horses.”
“What about horses?” she asked.
Something short-circuited in his brain. She looked a lot different when she wasn’t covered with mud. A lot better. She was wearing a blue jean skirt that hung nearly to her ankles and a loose-fitting white blouse.
She had brown eyes, light like warm baked earth, and one smooth, fat braid draped over her shoulder that hung nearly to her waist. Without the mud and the bad temper and the mind made up to hate him, she was about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
He just stood there and stared.
And she stared right back.
Finally the gracious host in him kicked in. “What’re you doin’ here?”
Her eyes hardened.
What kind of nonsense was going on in her head now? He waited.
She glared.
His boys saved him. They crashed into him so hard he staggered forward, almost into her.
He caught himself; then he caught the two boys, one in each hand.
She looked away from him, examined each of the twins for a second, and smiled.
Rats, it was a great smile. And he’d gotten close enough to find out she smelled great, too.
She bent down toward his boys. “Hi, did you guys see that buffalo this afternoon?”
Wyatt looked down at the twins. Their eyes got so wide and serious they could have been watching Jesus come again and realized they’d yet to repent. After a stunned silence—a small miracle in itself—they started yelling.
Cody went first. “Dad left us to play by the lake while he went over to meet the new boss at the buffalo ranch.”
“We saw the buffaler charge right over the hill.” Colt bounced.
“We were running for the tree, but it’s too high to climb.” Cody waved his arms as if he’d considered flying to safety.
Colt added, “We were trying to save Anna when Dad came charging on Gumby.”
She glanced at Wyatt. “Gumby?”
“Then he pulled his rifle and blew it away.” Cody acted that out with sound effects and flailing arms.
“The boys named him,” Wyatt said.
The buffalo gal said to Cody, “He didn’t blow it away.”
Cody nodded frantically. “Into a billion pieces of buffalo steak.”
Wyatt noticed that Cody’s steaks kept getting more plentiful. That could mean he was hungry.
“What are your names?”
Wyatt wondered if that was a sly jab at his lack of manners. Or maybe she just wanted to know their names.
“I’m Cody.”
She stared at him with fixed attention for slightly too long, and Wyatt wondered what she was thinking.
“I’m Colt.”
She gave Colt the same close examination.
Colt went into his favorite part of the made-up story. “He hung on to the reins with his teeth.”
Dividing her attention between the boys, she said, “I’m glad you’re all right. Your father saved you and Anna. He saved me.” She laid her hand on her throat and crouched down so she was eye level with the boys.
The boys moved past him so they were between Wyatt and the woman, which struck Wyatt as a good idea. He didn’t like her being so close.
She rested a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders. “And he saved my niece, Sally, a tiny little three-year-old girl who was right in the way of terrible danger. Your father is a hero over and over.”
Both boys were struck dumb. Another moment of silence—unheard of. They stared at her for a frozen minute then launched themselves at her, and each grabbed a hand. They started tugging her inside, and Wyatt had to step back or be run over. Or worse yet, smell her again.
She gave him a startled look.
He shrugged and stepped farther out of the way. “Come on in, I guess.”
As they dragged her past him, she said, “I’m Allison Lange.”
“Wyatt Shaw.”
“Call me Buffy.”
The boys quit manhandling her and stared in awe.
“Buffy, like in buffalo?” Colt spoke
first, which was unusual. Cody usually talked for the pair, but he looked stunned.
Cody found his voice. “You’re named after the buffalo?”
“I love buffalo, and I’ve spent my whole life studying them. The nickname sort of sneaked up on me.”
Wyatt snorted. “Your whole life? What are you, twenty?”
Allison said severely, “Twenty-five.”
“Well, ’scuse me.”
“How old are you, fifty?” She narrowed her eyes.
The boys couldn’t stop staring. Wyatt was having a little trouble himself. “No, I’m twenty-five.”
She glanced at his six-year-olds and raised an eyebrow at him.
“I started young.”
“I’ll say.”
The boys fell on her again and dragged her fully into Jessica’s formal living room. Jessica had wanted a room just for entertaining guests. Trouble was they never had any guests except the ones who came in the kitchen door and plunked themselves down at the kitchen table. They more often than not had muddy boots on and wanted to talk about baling hay or castrating bull calves. So Jessica hadn’t wanted them in her nice room anyway. Wyatt would have done anything to ease Jessica’s unhappiness, and he was glad to let her do up this room all formal; in the end, it just reminded her of how disappointed she was with her life. Now this room existed as a kind of shrine to her memory and a sharp poke in the eye to Wyatt if he ever got lonely for a woman.
“How did you get named after a buffaler?”
“Was it one buffalo? A special one?”
“Dad had the teeth in his reins. . .I mean, the reins in his teeth.”
“Colt, I never had the reins in my teeth.”
“Do you want me to bring coffee for the lady?” Anna came into the room, her eyes lively with curiosity. Anna, dark haired like Wyatt and his boys, was as tall as a woman but still had the gangly figure of a teen. But she was mature and as smart as a whip. She had to be to stay ahead of Wyatt’s boys.
Cody jerked his thumb at Allison-Buffy Lange. “Her name is Buffalo.”
Colt chimed in. “She said Dad is a hero. He saved the whole town from a rampaging buffalo.”
Buffalo Gal Page 2