“Now that I have a rig,” Fiona said, “I guess I’ll have to start drinking beer. What do you have on tap?”
The young girl recited a litany of their brews. “Dancing Ants is a good IPA, if you like a lot of hops.”
“Hops? Maybe I’ll become a hops aficionado. I’ll try the IPA. What have I got to lose?”
Lauren joined her in a microbrew, and Opal ordered whiskey and water.
“I heard something interesting about that Pattie Smith gal. You know, Brewster’s girlfriend,” said Lauren.
To hear better Fiona leaned forward across the table where the waitress had placed beer coasters and ice water. They were sitting close to the door, and the noise level went up every time another party came through the door.
“What would that be?” asked Fiona. She was beginning to understand that Lauren was exceptional when it came to gossip.
Lauren leaned in, too. “I heard that she did have relations here. I was talking to a customer the other day and missing persons came up. I asked if she had ever heard of a Pattie Smith. This customer is connected to the underground gossip line, and she said she had. That a Pattie Smith was related to the Browns who used to live up on the Ranch Estates above town, but they got foreclosed on and moved away.”
“So there really was a Pattie Smith.”
“Seems so according to this lady. Of course, there may be more than one Pattie Smith.”
“Did she say whether Pattie Smith had gone missing?”
Lauren shook her head. “She didn’t know. She only knew that they had mentioned that Pattie came through from time to time to visit and that she was an artist or something. Maybe they were cousins or some distant relation.”
“Too bad the relations had to move.”
“Yes, but I’m sure the Sheriff could find out who the relations were that she came to visit.”
“Maybe he could,” said Fiona.
It was dark when Fiona and Opal pulled in front of the ranch house. Jake was sitting on the porch and came out to meet them. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“We had a big day in town,” said Opal. “Fiona picks up her new rig Wednesday morning, and she now has a legal deed to her place.”
Jake smiled into Fiona’s eyes. “Good news. You must be staying if you got a deed and a rig.”
“I’ll need a reliable truck to get around in now that I’m going to rebuild.” She skirted the issue of the primary reason she had bought the truck.
Opal went inside saying she was tired and was going to turn in.
Fiona sat down beside Jake. “Any news from Hoover?”
“He hasn’t found any rustlers or antique gun thieves. I’ve been thinking what to do and decided to post watch on the cows and that knoll of yours.”
“Who will keep watch?”
“We’ll rotate. Me and the buckaroos and the dogs. It puts an added burden on the operation but I don’t like that someone is sneaking around here. I’ll bring in the two Great Pyrenees dogs we have with the goats. They’re good watch dogs. We’ll bring the goats in, too. It’s about time to change their pasture. Problem is what pasture to put them on.”
“It’s weird that people are sneaking around here and stealing your cattle. It gives me a creepy feeling.”
“Me, too. What could they want up on your knoll?”
“I think it is something valuable that we haven’t thought of yet. Buried treasure seems far-fetched, but I guess that would be possible. Has anyone else found anything on the ranch like gold?”
Jake shook his head. “Not that I know. This region has a lot of hot springs but none close to us. No oil, no gold, no natural gas. That missed us. Mostly we have sage brush, rabbit brush, greasewood, rim rock, a lot of space, and not very much water.”
“I’m stumped. I don’t know the area like you do. I volunteer to help keep watch. I’m a bit of a night owl.”
Jake laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think we’ll need you. This is a man’s job.” He winked. “But you could keep me company for a while on the midnight shift.”
Fiona looked at him and smiled. “Maybe we can work something out.”
Jake was working in the shop the next morning, trying to get a motor working, when Tillie and Howie pulled up in their old truck. He wiped his oily hands on a rag and walked out of the shop to the front of the house to greet them. Tillie hadn’t ever been friendly to him. She never had approved of his interfering in the ranch, as she called it. He always treated her with a degree of cordiality he didn’t feel. Her husband, Howie, was a mean drunk. Jake suspected he beat up on Tillie, but he never left any marks, and Tillie never complained or let on that he was abusive. At least, she never said anything to Jake and if she let on to Opal, she wasn’t saying. They lived a good ways off, so he wondered what brought them all this way today.
“Good morning,” Jake said. “I’d shake hands but mine are filled with grease.”
Tillie waved him off. Howie studied the far horizon like Jake didn’t exist.
“Is Opal around?” Tillie asked. She held one of her endless cigarettes in hand and took a long drag.
“She’s in the kitchen.”
“I heard you’re having cattle problems over here.” She looked up the knoll. “And someone didn’t like that ugly old bunk house and burned it down.”
Jake nodded, fingers caught on his hips. “We’ve had our problems. Hoover is on the case.”
Tillie’s laugh lead to a coughing fit. “Hoover ain’t worth a damn. He hasn’t solved a crime in years. I heard they haven’t found out anything about those bones in the hot springs. He still hasn’t found out what happened to Hank Little’s wives and cattle rustling is at an all time high. I say it’s time to vote him out of office.”
Howie grunted. “Son-of-a bitch ain’t worth nothing.”
That was about all Howie ever said. His brain was so alcohol soaked he spoke only in short phrases.
Jake shrugged. “You’ll have your chance in the election next year.” He waited for the real reason they came.
Tillie ignored Howie like she usually did. “I heard Opal went to the doctor yesterday. How’s she doing?”
Jake shrugged. “I guess okay. She went to bed early, said she was tired. She seems okay this morning. She didn’t say why she went.”
“I heard it was cancer.”
Jake looked past Tillie to where he saw two riders coming in the road out in the distance. Sweet was bringing the goats in today. The two huge white Great Pyrenees trotted along beside them. Cancer wouldn’t register in his brain. He was having trouble processing the word in relation to Opal. He wanted to think about goats and fixing motors. He didn’t want to think about cancer. He didn’t want to think that his life was about to turn upside down.
“Did you hear me, Jake?” said Tillie. “A friend of mine works at Dr. Martinez’s clinic and she said Opal was in there yesterday and starts chemotherapy on Wednesday. She works in scheduling, and she saw Opal’s name on the list.”
Jake looked back at Tillie. Howie spit a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt.
“I hadn’t heard,” said Jake. “Opal didn’t say anything to me.”
Tillie crossed her arms and glared at Jake. “She’s going to need help. I came to volunteer my services. She’s going to need help driving into town for treatment. Is that girl still here? Opal doesn’t need the extra work of company. She should leave. She doesn’t have a place here. I’m going to move in to help out.”
Jake could feel his carefully constructed world shattering and huge chunks breaking off and falling on his head. “We better talk to Opal.” He turned and led the way to the kitchen. Opal was standing at the sink and looked up when he came in. Tillie and Howie were right behind him.
“Hello, Tillie. Howie.” Opal wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Good to see you. Have a seat. I’ll fix you a glass of iced tea.” She looked from one to the other of them. They hadn’t spoken.