Fault Line In The Sand Page 3

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I deserved that. “Wanna know why the bear is outside?”

  Laying out the precisely cut-up apple, Mac nodded. “I do.”

  “We call her, Sugar Mama. Five years ago a cowboy accidentally left a baggy of sugar on the counter. She broke in and ate only the sugar, didn’t disturb another thing.”

  “You expect me to believe she’s here for sugar?”

  “Don’t be so impatient. That’s simply how we met her. This is her high-altitude territory. With a small cub, she’ll den up earlier to protect him. Bears don’t always use the same den, but every year or two she dens a hundred yards from the cabin. She’s watching to be sure we leave soon, so she won’t have to worry about us disturbing them.”

  “It’s 8:15.”

  “Let’s close this place up and get moving. It’ll take about an hour to reach my surprise.” I took one last swallow of coffee before emptying the pot, and then bagging the grounds to carry out. I’d brought a small bottle of organic cleaner with me. Dumping it on the floor, I emptied the remaining water in the bladder and used the broom in the corner to mop the floor of any food or scents. Mac wiped down the makeshift sink and table. We couldn’t reset the wood stove since we’d used it to make coffee this morning, but we left a neat pile of wood and kindling next to it for whoever arrived next. Rolling up our sleeping bags and stuffing them in our packs we made our way to the door and carefully opened it.

  The mama bear was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, her cub was rolling down the trail, shaking off the dirt, and doing it all over again. “Well, crap. I need to know where mama is. We can’t put ourselves or the horses between the two of them.”

  Pulling my bear spray from its sling pouch across my chest, I stepped out the door telepathing to the mother we were leaving but needed our animals. She bolted from the bushes pushing her cub into the trees, where he protested loudly. She relayed the thought move. I had no idea if she meant the cub or us. I called the horses. All three ran up the trail and stopped at the front door.

  “That’s what I call service,” Mac said picking up his saddle off the floor of the cabin.

  “Keep eyes on. Mama’s dangerous if we get between her and that cub.”

  Horses ready, we closed the door. Mac started to mount up. “Thought you said you’d been here.”

  “I have.”

  “Then you know we have one more job.”

  “You lost me. Frank and I rode out, leaving two cowboys who just rode in.”

  “Help me with this piece of wood. Drop it in the cutout slots.” We each lined up our side of the wood panel and dropped it in front of the door.

  “Well, isn’t that slick.” Mac said.

  “Some people nail or screw in boards to try and keep bears out. But that also keeps out any person who might be in need of shelter, so Frank devised this system.”

  “No one will be back till spring?” Mac asked.

  “I’ll tell Frank that Sugar Mama is hanging around. He’ll send some cowboys up on snow machines in December to check the cabin, after she’s had time to den up. If you want, we can do it.” Why did I say that?

  “I’d like that, as long as we aren’t staying overnight. I’m not ready to try the winter camping I’ve heard your dad talk about.”

  “I’m not a fan either. Get all the camping I want working for the USGS all summer.” We rode up-trail without talking; leaving the sow and cub to their privacy.

  Every fall I made a pilgrimage to one of the peaks before winter closed us into our valley. I hadn’t planned on doing it this trip, but if I let myself be talked into going to Mary Bay, this would be my last opportunity. The sky was clear without a wisp of a cloud. It was a good day to climb a mountain. Like all days, you reach the peak before noon and any chance of an afternoon mountain-effect, lightening storm moved in. Riding the horses instead of hiking would easily accomplish that goal.

  I turned Arikira onto a game trail and the other horses followed. We rode in silence, enjoying the voices of the wilderness. I didn’t need to rein Arikira as she made her way to a destination she knew well.

  Rounding the final corner, Mac pulled up next to me and surveyed the view below. Dismounting I dropped the reins and Arikira and Chimayo wandered a few feet away to graze.

  Mac followed suit with his horse, Cle-O. His name was actually Cletus Overwater, but it had been shortened to Cle-O. The match-up was a good one for Mac, and I was sure Frank had chosen him. The horse had a bossy, take no prisoners attitude, which fit Mac perfectly. It was apparent Mac’s expert horsemanship had led to an agreement the two would tolerate each other. Unfortunately, Cle-O wouldn’t be the horse Mac rode if we went to Mary Bay. After a trailering injury a couple years ago, Cle-O refused to enter a trailer. Frank decided since Cle-O was an old horse, he’d honor the fear and let him live out his life in peace.

  “What happened to the mountain?” Mac broke into my train of thought.

  “You’re looking at natural geology happening so fast these changes aren’t even on quadrangle maps yet. That map in your pack will show the area below us as a grassy meadow perfect for camping.”

  “This slide just happened?”

  “In geologic time, yes. It started moving ten years ago, and by 2011 had formed Crystal Lake below us. Where I camped growing up is now buried 20 to 30 feet under truck-sized boulders, trees, dirt and silt. Up close it looks like the moon surface.”

  “It’s surreal, but I suspect there was more to this surprise than showing me geology at work,” Mac said.

  “The slide didn’t come down all at once. It grew from a small landslide near the top of Crystal Peak, until half the mountainside finally peeled away and buried the meadow. It moved the river to a new channel, and created a lake in the place where many of my best childhood memories happened.” I looked at Mac and could tell he had no idea where I was going with this. “The landscape changed dramatically and the reality is, very few people give a crap because in the grand scheme of their lives it’s not important.”

  “You’re telling me the world doesn’t care about the truth we’re trying to expose?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s over, done, and people’s lives have already moved on. So why should I put my team in danger to satisfy you and the piranha?”

  “The piranha?” Mac raised his eyebrows.

  Did I say that out loud? “Sorry, I meant, Liz.”

  “Don’t apologize, she’d be flattered by the nickname. Liz didn’t rise to the top being a guppy. She loves this country, and has spent her life fighting to keep Americans safe. Even if every one of those people didn’t care; she did.”

  The wise speak with silence.

  My mother was telling me to embrace the piranha.

  “If you let go of the fox, you will fly like an eagle,” I said to Mac.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It means we’re going to Mary Bay.”

  Chapter 4

  They’re back!” Todd yelled from the porch. Dad’s forty-year old house was basically a boarding house. Amanda and Todd lived in it during the summer season. Dad stayed there in the winter. And Grampa Nus showed up when the weather got so cold his bones ached from living in the drafty old cabin on the main ranch. I grew up in the house, but now lived in my own cabin up the hill. My horses spent the grass-season on our property. When the deep winter snow arrives all the horses live across the road on Frank’s ranch, where it’s easier to feed and stable them in the big barn.

  “You don’t look any worse for wear, Mac. I take it she didn’t shoot you when you showed up.” Amanda said while checking Mac for wounds.

  “Not a hole in me,” Mac dismounted.

  “Hard to shoot a man bringing steak and mushrooms,” I said.

  “Bet it wasn’t as good as mine.”

  “Todd, there is nothing better than you under any circumstances,” Mac said.

  “Don’t encourage him. His ego is hard enough to live with already,”
Amanda said. “We’re having lasagna for dinner. Pasture the horses and join us. Wine is breathing and ready to drink.”

  I was spoiled. When Todd was in residence I rarely even boiled water. If I could figure out a way to get him to hang around in the winter, my life would be perfect. For now, my winters consisted of Ramen noodles and crockpot stews. “Garlic bread and a fresh salad included?” I asked.

  “Of course. And a huckleberry pie, made fresh this morning,” Todd said.

  “Do I have time for a shower?”

  “Not if you want your dinner hot,” Amanda said. “You two can sit across the room from the rest of us.”

  “We don’t smell that bad.” Mac pulled the saddle off Cle-O and balanced it on the porch railing.

  I opened the gate to the pasture and the three horses took off running. Their winter coats were starting to grow, and they knew the days of running were soon to give way to careful plodding through snow-filled pastures. Making our way to the house I could smell the lasagna and realized how hungry I was. Mac opened the screen door and ushered me through.

  The house is on one level, which makes shoveling the roof easier for those of us who don’t like heights. The west end is a large great room connected to the big kitchen on the back, with a master bedroom on the front, creating a T-shape. There is a river rock fireplace, but it’s only used to ward off the fall or spring chill, since a wood stove heats the house more efficiently. There are two more bedrooms at the end of the ‘T.’ A laundry room at the end of the house was built on about 25 years ago when dad finally bought our own washer and dryer. It was built for function not beauty, and the addition allowed room for a small wood stove to help heat the two back bedrooms.

  Glasses of fresh poured wine sat on the coffee table. I claimed one of the two large squishy-comfy leather chairs and sipped the light red blend.

  “Did you know your arm has a cut on it?” Amanda asked.

  “Caught a branch and almost ripped my shirt off.” Standing to go wash the dried blood from my hands and arms, I tripped. Mac caught me and saved the wine.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize my legs were so weak from riding for two days.” It was an excuse, and everyone knew it. I was almost deaf in one ear and sometimes, when I was tired, I suffered vertigo if I stood up too fast.

  When I returned from washing up, Todd had set the food on the large round coffee table. The rustic setting could have been on the cover of a magazine. The cowboy design tableware, cloth napkins the color of fall wildland grasses, and fresh cut sage in a metal vase reflected western distinction. However, there were only settings for four. “No Dad or Grampa?”

  Todd raised his glass. “To a quiet evening without the old farts.” We clinked glasses together. “Your dad drove to town this afternoon and took Grampa with him.”

  “I take it Dad is mad he can’t go to Mary Bay.”

  “Yep, so hopefully they’ll stay in town overnight,” Amanda said.

  “What about Liz?” Mac asked.

  “She rode out with Frank to help with round-up.” Todd took a bite of salad. “Said they’d be back in two or three days.”

  Over the next hour we talked with our mouths full, laughed at bad jokes and stuffed ourselves till everyone had to either unzip the top of their jeans or change into sweatpants. We all helped clean the kitchen and then returned to the great room and opened a third bottle of wine.

  “Anyone wanna start a fire in the fireplace for ambiance?” Todd asked.

  “I’ll do it.” Mac filled the fireplace with logs, kindling, diesel gas soaked sawdust, and struck a match.

  “Learned a new skill while we were in the park working?” I asked.

  “I could always start a fire in a snap. Just didn’t tell you. That’s how you get chores added to your list.”

  “Smart man,” Amanda said.

  Todd leaned forward on the couch, bent down, and scratched my dog Nuk’s stomach. “Time to deal with the wolverine in the room.”

  “What?” Mac asked.

  Amanda grunted as my smaller dog, Spit, jumped onto her lap not wanting to be left out. “Most people say the elephant in the room, Todd thinks he’s being clever.”

  “I am clever.”

  “You’re something. But, I’d say it’s more aggravatingly eccentric,” Amanda said.

  “I can live with that description.” Todd leaned back into the couch and stared at me. “What’s the verdict?”

  “We’re going,” Mac volunteered.

  Todd stuck his hand out. “Hand it over.”

  “Do I look like I’m carrying money?” Amanda said.

  “Don’t make me have to search you, because I will.”

  “Fine.” Amanda put Spit on the couch and went to her room to get the money.

  Todd topped off the rest of our wine glasses and held up the empty bottle. “Are we up for number four?”

  Mac and I waved him off.

  Amanda returned and handed a ten to Todd. “Just once I’d prefer to lose a bet with a handsome cowboy instead of a gay chef so I could let him search me.”

  “I resent that,” Todd said.

  “Since when did you resent being called gay?” Mac asked.

  “Not the gay part, secret agent man, the chef part. I’m as much a cowboy as the rest of them, and just as hunky as the best of them.”

  Mac looked at me. “I should’ve known.”

  “Yes you should’ve, but I forgive you if we can leave in the morning.”

  “Trying to leave the piranha behind?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Give Jorie a break, you know new people make her crazy.” Todd flapped his arms in the air and made a face like a dog foaming at the mouth.

  “The break I’ll give her is we carry three tents and give Liz, one of her own.”

  Amanda walked over to me and whispered in my good ear. “When did you tell him you call her the piranha?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Did he get mad or did it turn him on?”

  I looked up at her. “Are you drunk?”

  “Nope, but I keep hoping you’ll turn him on and then tell me all about it.” She was no longer whispering.

  Todd stuck his hand out again and Amanda put another ten in it.

  “You were betting on me getting Jorie in the sack?” Mac asked laughing.

  “Screw all of you.” I walked to the front door. “I’m going home.”

  “Hey, take your dogs with you.” Amanda yelled from the couch as I walked down the porch steps.

  Crap, I had to go back. I tried to open the door just enough for the dogs to squeeze out without anyone seeing me. The screen door swung open hitting the toes of my boots.

  “Need some help?” Mac asked.

  “You enjoy making me look bad, don’t you?”

  “Marjorie, no one is making you look bad. We like teasing you because you make it so easy to rile you up.”

  I looked in his bright blue eyes, which held no malice or laughter. He was trying to bail me out. I stuck my head around the door. “You’ll never know when it happens, you can bet on that.”

  Mac let the door slip closed and we strolled to my cabin with the dogs at our heels. I walked up the porch steps as Mac turned to hike to his cabin on the hill behind mine. “Hey Jorie, you want to bet the dynamic duo is still sitting on the couch with their mouths open.”

  “Not a chance. I’m sure they are.”

  “By the way, nice come back.”

  “Thanks, Mac. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Jorie.”

  I called the dogs in the house and shut the door. Dumping my clothes in the hamper, I took a long, hot shower. After toweling off, I blow-dried my hair and climbed in bed. Rolling over I realized Mac and I called each other by our names all evening, not by nicknames. Was that a good thing, or was I slipping?

  My yellow lab, Nuk, was standing over me on the bed with her nose in my face. Spit was trying to do the same but was too small to accomplish the intimidating stance
. “I get it. You two want outside.” I stumbled out of bed and rubbing my eyes walked out of the bedroom. The smell of coffee brewing made my eyes open wide.

  “Nice outfit.”

  I ran back into the bedroom slamming the door. I sleep in the nude. There’s nothing wrong with that, but everything wrong with Mac coming into my cabin without permission and seeing me that way. “Don’t make me have to start sleeping in a nightshirt, Special Forces,” I yelled. That felt better; I was back to name-calling. Hearing him laughing in the next room, I finished putting on jeans and a t-shirt and opened the door. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “Nice ass, too.” He stuck a mug of coffee in my face.

  “I could get used to having you be my coffee-servant.”

  “You could buy a coffeemaker with a timer.”

  “This one works just fine.”

  “For someone who can’t breathe without their morning coffee, you sure are backwards in your approach,” Mac said.

  “Keeps you thinking, doesn’t it?”

  “Sugar, everything you do keeps me thinking.” Ah, the circle of name-calling is complete; life was back to normal. “Todd is making waffles and some kind of bacon-egg dish, thought you might want to join everyone.”

  I took a sip of coffee and poured more in my mug. “Who is everyone?”

  Mac laughed. “Still just the four of us.”

  “I’m in.” Mac had already let my dogs outside. I set my coffee mug down, put on a jacket and then retrieved my mug. “Let’s go.”

  Mac looked at my feet. “There’s frost this morning, are you sure you want to go barefoot?”

  “It’s not my first barefoot rodeo.”

  “You are one crazy lady.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “I know.”

  The front door was closed against the cool morning air. They had a fire burning in the fireplace and the room was at least 80 degrees. I left the front door open behind me. “What is wrong with you two? You’d think this place was inhabited by a bunch of old ladies from Florida.”

  “Don’t insult old Floridian ladies, my granny would kick your butt for saying that,” Amanda said.