Page 8 of Rocky Ride

Travis stepped carefully out the back door zeroing in on exactly where the bear was. She was back in the trees a little ways off, but he could see the size and shape of her through the evergreen boughs.

“Why aren’t you in a cave sleeping for the winter?” he hollered to her as he gathered up an armload of wood.

No more growling. She lumbered away, but he couldn’t take any chances with the dogs. No vets up here to sew Max and Sarge up if a bear claw ripped them wide open. It had happened once before and that was enough for Travis.

The dogs waited while Travis restarted the stove, then began whining as he leashed them for their morning run. “One quick walk outside is all you get. Hear me?”

They wagged their tails whenever Travis talked to them.

Pretty damned cold. Uncle Carson’s outdoor thermometer nailed to the side of the cabin read twelve degrees. No new snow. Too fuckin cold to snow.

The dogs tugged on their leashes, and it was tough to hold both of them at once. The Belgian Malinois were a muscular breed and super strong.

Back inside with the dogs, it was time to try cooking on the woodstove. Travis searched the only cupboard and found an iron frying pan.

Dusty, he wiped it clean with one of the dish towels and set it on the stove to heat up. He took a package of bacon and a carton of eggs out of the cooler and gave it his best shot.

No toaster, but he could heat the bread up a bit on the wire rack in the oven.

Old tin coffee pot was next. He dusted it off and filled it with bottled water. Had nothing else. Couldn’t imagine how bad it was going to taste. Hot and strong for sure, but it might be hard to swallow at first.

When his breakfast was ready, he sat down at the table to eat and wondered how the boys were doing.

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

While me and Virge did the barn chores, Billy made our breakfast. Felt weird eating at the table without Dad.

“I hope Dad ain’t freezing to death,” said Virge. “What if he can’t get the fuckin stove going in the cabin? Then what? He can’t cook an egg or nothing. Fuck. I hate this.”

“You boys realize Travis spent years in the Marine Corps, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That means he’s trained in survival and in a lot of other ways too, just like I was trained in the army. He’ll make out okay even if he doesn’t have much to work with up there.”

“I’m not worrying,” I said.

“Bullshit, you’re not,” Virge hollered at me. “Don’t you lie to me, Harlan. You are fuckin close to losing it. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Stop fretting about Travis and let’s focus on our case,” said Billy. “We’ve got six angry women to interview today. Molly made the appointments, and the women arsonists know we’re coming.”

“Don’t really want to talk to a bunch of Bic-happy stripper-haters,” mumbled Virge. “I’ve got bigger problems on my mind.”

Billy tried not to laugh at Virgie. “When we get to the station, we’ll have a little meeting with Ted and decide how we’re going to handle the women.”

“We have to center out the leader,” said Virge. “In every fuckin gang, there’s a leader. That’s the rule. One leader and the rest of the chicks are followers.”

“Decent theory, Virge,” said Billy. “We’ll soon find out which woman is running the show. Molly should have theirbackground checks ready for us by the time we have our meeting.”

“You think the leader of the chicks is an ex-con, Billy?” asked Virge.

“Nope. Just an angry housewife with an unfaithful husband.”

“Yeah,” said Virge. “They’re probably all married to fuckin cheaters and that’s a requirement to join their stupid fucking group.”

My brother made me laugh.

“Guess we’ll find out when we get to work,” said Billy.

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