Page 73 of His Road Dog

Priest held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey, man." Her dad shifted the gun to his other side and shook. "Where are you taking my daughter?"

"Dad." She groaned and looked at Priest. "He's being silly. He already knew I was leaving today."

"You never told me that he's older than me and your mom, Nicole," said her dad.

She glanced at Priest and raised her brows, amused by her dad's attempt at playing the father role now. When she was growing up, he and mom believed children should have as much freedom as adults because age was only a number.

Priest wasn't looking entertained. A hardness came to the corners of his eyes, and his lips thinned. Could their age difference matter to him?

The idea was preposterous to her. Later, she would have to try and see it from his view.

"Dad's messing with you." She leaned against Priest. "He's cool with us. You'll see."

Her dad rubbed his long beard. "Are you the one my daughter mentions smokes pot that tastes and smells like it was grown under artificial light with chlorinated water?"

"He never received the joint I mailed him—isn't that strange? So, I told him about what everyone smokes in Missoula," whispered Nicole.

Priest met her dad's gaze. "Your daughter has a different opinion than me."

"Follow me." Her dad handed the rifle to one of the others and motioned for them to follow. "I have something I want to give you before you take off with my daughter."

Priest looked at her when her dad wandered off. She shrugged and led Priest by the hand. It wouldn't hurt to see what he wanted before they got on the road.

"The others are at the clearing," muttered Priest.

"Tarkio members?"

"Yeah."

"They won't be allowed here."

"Why'd they let me in?" He looked behind them. "Nobody's pointing a gun at me now."

"One of the guards came and told dad when you arrived. All he said was bikers were here, and a big guy was trying to enter the commune. I knew it had to be you—I had hoped it was you and begged my dad to let you in." She squeezed his hand. "And, now you're here. I can't believe it. You have no idea how happy I am to have you back."

Her dad opened the cabin door and walked inside. She strolled in with Priest.

Taking a wooden pencil box off the shelf, her dad handed it to Priest. "Compare."

"Excuse me?" Priest made no move to open the box.

"Check it out, man. Tell me what you think," said her dad.

Priest opened the top and glanced at Nicole. She picked a joint out of the box and handed it to him, trying to hurry them along. Now that she could leave, she was anxious to get back to Missoula.

Setting down the box, Priest held the joint up to his nose. After several seconds, he said, "Do you mind if I open it?"

"Go for it." Her dad sat on the beanbag nearby. "There are matches on the table behind you if you want to give it a go."

Priest fingered the buds cradled inside the organic paper. "Hybrid?"

Her dad grinned, lifting his shoulders, not committing to an answer. Surprised that her dad was even sharing what the commune produced, she stayed quiet. The massive marijuana plots the men worked and harvested all year long allowed them to live free without the government overseeing their lives.

"There's nothing like this in Montana," said Priest, rerolling the joint.

"That's a downer, man." Her dad got up again, took two joints out of the box, and handed them to Priest. "Take it as a gift for watching out for my daughter. If you need more, you know where to find me. That shit will blow your fucking mind."

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