Chapter 16

The drive up to the Bar T was a bit more than the two days it would usually take. I tried to keep to the back roads as much as possible. Which wasn’t that hard. I had spent a lot of time in southern Idaho and western Wyoming, So I knew most of the marked roads and, more importantly, the unmarked ones. I even went off-road in a few places and used the access roads for the power lines and railroad right of ways.

But doing it that way doubled our trip time. I also wanted to limit our road time to darkness, mainly to avoid any possible satellite snooping.

Once we got to Bar T range, I stopped worrying. I knew that anybody watching was friendly, that outsiders wouldn’t be welcome. The drive into the main house was up a 15-mile dirt road, with little or no cover. So anybody who was watching couldn’t miss us. It also gave time for Bruce Taggart to see us coming and get ready. I had a feeling that he had his ranch hands keeping an eye out for anything strange.

Coming over the cattle guard into the main house yard, I could see a young boy playing with a black and white border collie in the front yard. They stopped their antics, and the boy ran for the house. He quickly returned with an older woman. Suzy and I had no problem recognizing Marsha Taggart. Our friend and the Grand Dame of the Bar T.

She stood on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. Even from across the yard, we could see her smile.

Standing with her, and slightly behind, was a small girlchild. She was clutching Marsha’s apron with huge eyes, and her thumb firmly corked in her mouth. As Suzy and I climbed out of the truck, Marsha called out a welcome. And the little one moved even further behind her mother.

“Matt, Suzy, It’s about time. We expected you at first light. Hang on while I let Bruce know you’re here.” Then, pulling a small handheld radio from her pocket, she called Bruce and let him know that company was at the big house.

Standing off to one side, I could see the smiling young boy. His canine friend sat at the heel, next to him. “Donny? Is that you, son? Good grief, kiddo, you’re twice as big as the last time I saw you.” I exclaimed.

Shadow had joined us. The two dogs were living up to their training, barely. I could tell that both of them were trying their damnedest to get a whiff of each other. They were straining forward, their noses quivering.

“And who is that with you? Did you take that trip that we talked about?”

“Yes sir, Mister Reynolds, this is Bella. She’s a border collie.”

“I can see that Donny, and a fine-looking animal at that. Did you get her from Mr. Curran?”

“Yes, sir, she was from a litter raised by some sheepherders in Yakima, Washington. I’ve been training her to the whistle. Maybe I can show you sometime?”

I could hear the hope in the kid’s voice. He was proud of his efforts and wanted to show them off.

“Well, we’ll have to see what your dad can set up, Donny. Can she herd cattle and horse’s?”

“Cattle, sort of, But the horse’s round here are damned jug-headed, stubborn, nags.”

“DONNY” This was from his mother. “ Watch your language, young man.”

“Well, it’s true, Momma, I’ve heard Lois, and the other wranglers call them that, and worse.”

“Nevertheless, young man. At least try to use polite language around strangers.”

“Aw, Ma, Matt, and Suzy ain’t strangers. They’re family. You and Pa said so.”

“OK, that’s enough. I think it’s time for you and Bella to take a time out. You can spend it in your room, or the tack room. If it’s your room, I expect three chapters in your Algebra book. If it’s the tack room, I want all the harnesses soaped and oiled. And I’ll be checking your work, young man.”

“Aw, Ma.” He turned and started heading towards the barn. “Donny,” I called out. He stopped and turned towards me. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll get a chance to work Bella.”

As we talked to Donny, His dad came riding up in one of their quad rural assault vehicles. Lance and Jim had climbed out of the camper and were stretching their kinks out.

“MATT, Brother, a sight for sore eyes. Let’s get that train wreck of a truck undercover before our neighbors call the HOA on us.”

When I had called before, I let Bruce know that some folks might be looking for us. Folks with powerful eyes and ears.

The next 15 minutes were spent making introductions all around. While we were talking, the radio on Bruce’s hip squawked at him. “West gate to Bossman, C’mon back.”

“Excuse me, folks.” Bruce apologized and stepped away from the group.

Eyebrows raised, I looked at Marsha. This was something new. “The cell phone reception up here is spotty at best. Some places are fine. In others, they won’t work. So we started playing around with CB radios and others, But Bruce wasn’t satisfied. So he’s experimenting with different ideas now.

As Marsha was talking, Bruce rejoined us. “Well, nobody followed you. The boys on the west gate have locked her down, and I’ve told the others to lockdown also. They’ll keep an eye open and let us know if something shows up. But for now, we’re OK.”

“Thanks, Bruce. We owe you big time on this one.”

“Nonsense, we’re family. Let’s get your land yacht undercover.” He turned to Marsha, “Honey, What’s on for lunch. It’ll probably just us, but one or two of the boys might drop by.”

“Just standard picnic fare, babe. Cold fried chicken, boiled corn on the cob, and salads. I wouldn’t worry if the crew comes in. Maybe you should rotate them around and bring them in here for lunch and rations?”