Montana Unbranded. Nadia Nichols

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       CHAPTER TWO

      DANI LOVED THE utterly luxurious sensation of waking with a start, thinking she might have overslept and then realizing it was the weekend and she didn’t have to jump out of bed and get ready for work. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her job. Estate planning was okay. Predictable. No courtroom drama, but she liked the law firm she worked for and got along well with her coworkers. Still, she loved her days off better. Loved planning her weekend adventures. Loved having the dogs pad into the bedroom while the sunlight laid banners of warmth across the bed.

      She pulled the goose-down duvet up to her chin and peered over the edge of the bed at her dogs and their questioning eyes. “Good morning, boys. No doubt you’re wondering why I’m lying here in bed when I should be up getting your breakfast, and no doubt you’re also wondering what’s on the docket today and what sort of grand adventures we’ll have. We haven’t been camping all winter, but I’m thinking today’s the day. It’s the end of May. The snow should be mostly gone in the mountains. We’ll hike up to the forest service camp and see if we can find Custer’s band.”

      She stretched like a cat under the covers and reached a hand to stroke the pair of retrievers, who laid their blocky heads on the edge of her bed and wagged their tails in unison. “You miss Jack, don’t you?”

      Their tails wagged faster at the mention of his name. She sighed. “I did, too, for a while, but I’m not sure why. He was hardly ever here. We were almost always alone, weren’t we? Nothing much has changed. It’s mainly been just the three of us since you were puppies. I know he really cared about you, and maybe he’ll come visit you some day. But I can love you and take care of you and take you camping, and that’ll just have to be enough.”

      The dogs heaved simultaneous sighs and Dani heaved another of her own.

      She’d stayed up past midnight last night, redesigning Molly’s wedding gown to compensate for the first trimester of her friend’s unexpected pregnancy, the inspiration for the new design having struck her after Molly left with her brother. She’d also thought about Molly’s brother a lot last night. Too much, truth be told, but it was the wedding gown that mattered, not Joe Ferguson. This would be no ordinary wedding gown. This was going to be a graceful sweep of elegance suitable for the red-haired Scots/Irish goddess who was marrying Steven Young Bear, the hard-hitting environmental attorney thought by many to be one of the rising stars in Montana’s political arena.

      Molly’s gown had to be perfect. She wouldn’t let her best friend down on such an important day, but creating the perfect gown for the mother-to-be would require a big investment of time. This weekend’s excursion into the Arrow Roots to photograph the wild horses might be her last until after the June wedding. Which meant she shouldn’t be lying in bed, squandering one precious moment of this fine spring day.

      Dani pushed out of bed, reached for her robe and wrapped it around her as she went downstairs to start the coffee. She’d lived in Helena for five years in this comfortable house, built in the late 1800s, with a big fenced yard for the dogs and only five miles from her office, but since Jack left she’d found herself wishing for a piece of land to call her own, large enough for a horse barn and pastures. It was no longer important to live within a stone’s throw of the airport. So she’d taken the plunge and recently listed the house with a real estate agent, who’d called yesterday to arrange a showing for Saturday. Perfect timing, since Dani and the dogs would be off hiking. Maybe now she should seriously start looking for that special place. A change would do her good.

      She organized her camera gear while the coffee brewed. Stuffed her backpack with supplies while she sipped the first strong cup. Took a long, hot shower and dressed in comfortable, layered clothing. It got cold in the mountains when the sun went down. She plaited her long dark hair and laced up her well-worn leather hiking boots. The dogs watched all this preparation with increasing excitement. They knew she was taking them camping. They smelled the smoke of a hundred other campfires in her camping gear. They loved hiking with her, and she in turn felt safer in their company. Remmie and Win were well behaved, never roamed far from her side and their keen sense of smell and hearing had proved invaluable in finding the small band of wild horses that roamed the Arrow Roots.

      She always stopped to see Luther Makes Elk when she crossed into the Crow reservation and today would be no different. She packed a jar of homemade raspberry jam for him and would pick up some Chinese food at the little restaurant in Bozeman. Luther loved his MSG.

      By sunset she and the dogs will have reached the old line camp on the flanks of Gunflint Mountain. The thought made Dani happy. She was anxious to see if any of the mares had foaled yet, and if the wildflowers were in bloom on the mountainsides. She wanted to once again hear the coyotes howl and admire a night sky so full of stars it made her heart ache with the beauty and mystery of it.

      Before eight a.m. she was loading her Subaru with camping gear. The two dogs jumped into the backseat when she opened the side door, then she climbed behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.

      “Okay, gang, let’s hunt us up a herd of wild horses.”

      * * *

      JOE WAS UP well before dawn. He was restless, and the time difference made it feel as if he should have been up far earlier. He dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, the same clothes he’d worn the day before because he had no other clothes to wear. Just lucky that Rico had brought these clothes to the hospital yesterday morning. He wandered into the kitchen of the small house in Gallatin Gateway that Molly shared with her fiancé, Steven Young Bear. Joe had always been protective of his baby sister and had been skeptical that any man would be good enough for her, but the moment he met Steven, he knew instinctively that this man would take good care of her. Molly had told him that Steven was a Crow Indian and an attorney of great merit and integrity, and that she loved him very much. She spoke of him with such unrealistic praise that Joe hadn’t been prepared to like the man, but from the first handshake he was sold. Young Bear was quiet and self-possessed, and Joe had no doubt that he could handle any situation life threw at him. Last night the three of them had shared a simple meal of stir-fried chicken in the cozy kitchen of the small post-and-beam home, after which Joe had retreated to the guest room, exhausted.

      Yet in spite of his fatigue, he hadn’t slept well. He couldn’t blame it on being in a strange place. Nothing was stranger than a hospital. Maybe it was the absence of constant interruptions. No nurses, no doctors, no badges checking on him hourly. Maybe it was the silence. The sound of the wind pushing around the sides of the house was all he heard here no matter how hard he listened. No sirens, car horns or traffic noises. Maybe thirty-six years of city living had been what kept him awake his first night in the heart of the Wild West.

      He wandered into the kitchen and saw that Molly had left the coffeepot ready to go. He pushed the start button. The coffee grinder whirred and the smell of fresh ground beans infused him with comfort. Water began to hiss and thump and drip through the filter and into the pot. He leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter and gazed out the СКАЧАТЬ