Page 72 of Inventions of the Heart

Michelle launched into a talk about geological surveys,water levels, aquifers, and the capillary rise of groundwater. His head started to spin from her complicated explanations.

And now she wanted a traction engine that drove itself around on wheels so they could use it here and there. No such thing existed to his knowledge, which he admitted to himself might be limited. She talked about a threshing machine and a baling machine—and how a traction engine could run them. Threshing made no sense because he didn’t grow wheat or oats. He just cut down prairie grass that grew wild, stacked it, and forked it up in case the forage got short in the winter. But Michelle was excited about how much better oats and wheat would be for his cows, which were gaining weight just fine as they were. And she wanted to turn his big haystacks into dozens ... no, hundreds of small hay bales. Why would he do that?

Labor saving, she had said. Machines that took over a lot of the backbreaking work. But baling was work he didn’t even do, so how could doing it save any work?

He wouldn’t have to have so many hired men. And he knew they often quit with little notice, leaving him shorthanded. Cowboys were a bunch of wanderers, for a fact. But new ones always came in, and he liked having men around. They needed jobs, and he liked their company.

Zane knew Michelle was really smart, but even so, he decided to use small words. “I run a ranch. I have helped with this ranch since I was knee-high to my pa. I have no idea why you think I need a traction engine.”

“We have one in each of our sawmills. And there’s one in the lumberyard in San Francisco that runs a saw strictly for doing finer work.” Her eyes practically glowed with excitement. “Once we’re done with the waterwheels and windmillssetup and the threshers and balers running, I want to work on my four-stroke cycle engine. I’ve told you about Rochas’s theory on how his engine would work. But no one has ever figured out how to truly create it. If I could invent it and apply that engine to Lenoir’s internal combustion engine, I could—”

If he heard the name Alphonse Beau de Rochas or Etienne Lenoir one more time he might ... he might ... good grief, it was too late. He already remembered them.

Twenty minutes later, Michelle was talking about the shed she wanted for inventing. She called it a laboratory, but it sounded like a big shed to him.

Jilly was excited to have something new to build. With all the trees she was cutting down, he probably oughta invest in one of those two-man crosscut saws. Michelle said that’s what they used in their lumber business. Maybe he needed a sawmill. He sure enough wasn’t going to suggest that, or he’d find himself with a mill so fast his head would spin quicker than a paddle wheel.

He respected Michelle’s excitement about machines, but Zane was a little hurt by her urge to improve and organize a ranch that was already one of the best in northern California. Not that he’d visited others to compare. But he knew it.

Instead, she was determined to invent things the world had been getting along without since God created the heavens and the earth.

They finally reached Dorada Rio, well ahead of Shad. The wagon was a slow-moving thing, and Michelle had errands she wanted to run and letters she wanted to mail with more orders before they loaded the boilers.

“That’s Marshal Irving.” Zane pointed to the man riding into Dorada Rio from the other side of town.

“He looks tired.” Michelle frowned as they closed the distance between them.

Marshal Irving, wearing brown broadcloth pants and a dusty blue shirt, instead of his usual black suit, caught sight of them and straightened in his saddle. He picked up his pace and rode up to Zane and Michelle, his eyes sparking with urgency. “Follow me over to that hitching post.”

He guided his horse to the front of the general store, the nearest place to tie up. He dismounted and was around his horse before Zane’s feet hit the ground.

“Glad to see you,” Irving said. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, but it has to wait. For now, I could use someone to guard my flank.”

“What’s going on?” Zane asked.

Michelle came around her horse and was clearly listening in that sharp way she had. She didn’t miss a thing. She had a memory for names and details, and she always had an opinion.

“I’ve been keeping watch over Horace Benteen’s ranch. There’s a good spot for a lookout. I can lay on my belly up on a hilltop with my spyglass and see what’s happening there.”

That explained the dust, and it probably explained the two tied-down guns. A man expecting trouble.

“Horace rode out yesterday with about six riders. Then last night, I saw Jarvis ride in.”

“He’s out at his pa’s ranch right now?” Zane hadn’t seen or heard a whisper about the man since that crooked judge had let him out of jail.

“Yes, and his pa didn’t take all his hands with him.”

“You want me to go along with you out there and help you round ’em up?” Zane wondered where he could put Michelle while he took a long ride out of town. The Benteen ranch was as far from town to the south as Zane’s was to the east.

“Nope, I followed Jarvis here. He and two men from his ranch just rode into town as bold as you please.”

“He must think he’s untouchable,” Michelle said, crossing her arms tightly. “And after he broke into my bedroom and tackled me to the floor. That can’t be allowed to stand.”

“He thinks it, ma’am, but he’s wrong. I have some marshals riding in. I’ve warrants to arrest Jarvis and Horace over the theft of Mrs. Lane’s land. I contacted the marshals a few days ago, figuring I needed more men if I had to take Horace at the ranch. Now I’ve got Jarvis here in town with only two men to back him.”

“Where are the other marshals?” Zane glanced around the town, wondering where they were waiting.

“They’re not here yet. That’s why I was keeping watch over the Benteen ranch, studying the situation while I waited for help. I figured we’d arrest Horace, then comb the hills for Jarvis. But he came right into the place, probably because he knew his pa was gone.

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