words. The silence between them was comfortable.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing. His words came to her again as she took a breather. Luther didn’t say much, so when he spoke, she listened. As did everyone. He was, after all, a legendary holy man. What had he meant? Had Luther been referring to Molly’s brother Joe? Had he been telling her to leave the dark and dangerously handsome man well enough alone? Or had he been describing his own life, his days spent sitting on the old wooden bench in front of his shack, watching the occasional vehicle drive past?
She shifted the tripod to her other shoulder and continued on. Her breath came in short, hard gasps as the trail steepened. Her thigh muscles burned and her shoulders were already sore. She was pathetically out of shape. Cross-country skiing was good exercise and a fine way to enjoy a long Montana winter, but nothing beat climbing uphill while shouldering a heavy pack. She hadn’t slept very well last night, but she had a feeling tonight would be different. Tonight she’d forget all about how Joe Ferguson had turned her insides to mush and instead focus on finding the bright golden stallion, Custer, and his little band of unbranded mares. With any luck he’d be grazing his mares in the high mountain park that surrounded the old camp.
She was going to get some great photos. She could feel it in her bones.
* * *
“THIS IS KATY JUNCTION,” Molly narrated to Joe as Steven parked the Wagoneer in front of a small hole-in-the-wall diner called the Longhorn Café. The café comprised one of four buildings that made up a town that, except for the addition of telephone poles, didn’t look like it had changed much in well over a century. There was even a hitch rail in front of the boardwalk, which still looked well used, if piles of horse manure were any measure. “Guthrie’s sister, Bernie, runs this diner. She’s wonderful—you have to meet her. She brews the best coffee in the West, so you must have a cup. Badger and Charlie are probably here, too. They help out at the Bow and Arrow and spend the rest of their lives hanging out at Bernie’s counter and gossiping.”
Joe climbed out of the passenger seat, trying to keep track of all the names his sister tossed his way. His chest ached. His gut ached. His head ached. He didn’t want a cup of coffee and he didn’t want to go to the Bow and Arrow. He was beginning to wish he’d never gotten out of bed that morning. He’d passed on his six a.m. painkillers and that had been a mistake. He felt punk enough that Molly had put off visiting Luther Makes Elk on the way to the Bow and Arrow, and it was a good thing, too. Just climbing the three steps to the diner really took it out of him. When he reached the top step, the wall of the diner began to move in a strange way, and he grabbed on to the hitch rail to catch his balance.
“Joseph?” Molly’s face looked up at him, eyes full of concern. She’d been hovering ever since he’d arrived, as if he might drop dead at any moment. She had her hand on his arm and he felt another hand steady his elbow. Steven. Jesus. How embarrassing.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Jet lag, that’s all.”
“Bernie makes good homemade soup. We’ll stay for lunch,” Steven said.
The cold sweat passed as they helped him through the door into a small room. The tables were empty, but two men, both on the far side of ancient and dressed like the cowboys of old, sat at the counter. The slender, pleasant-looking woman standing behind it took one look at them and came around, wiping her hands on a towel as she approached. Her smile was warm and genuine. She glanced at Joe questioningly, then at Molly. “Why, Molly Ferguson,” she said, her smile broadening, “if this is your tall, dark and handsome older brother, you must introduce me.”
“How’d you guess?” Molly said.
“Except for the lack of red hair, there’s a strong family resemblance.” She extended her hand. “I’m Bernie Portis. Welcome to Katy Junction and the Longhorn Café. Won’t you have a seat?” Her hand gripped his arm firmly as she deftly guided him to the nearest table. He sat. Gave her a grateful look. She smiled and nodded imperceptibly in response. “Soup of the day is extra special because I’m using Bow and Arrow buffalo, not beef. Pony finally persuaded Caleb to take the plunge. They harvested a two-year-old bull, and I’m their first commercial account,” Bernie said proudly. “Buffalo’s wonderful meat—low-fat, low cholesterol and naturally raised on the prettiest wide-open range in the West.”
“Sounds great. We’ll take three bowls and three coffees, Bernie,” Steven said.
“Make mine peppermint tea,” Molly said.
Steven and Molly sat. Bernie looked between the two of them. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked Molly. “Is your stomach upset?”
Molly glanced questioningly at Steven, who gave her a calm nod. “We’re going to have a baby,” she announced, then to her visible mortification she burst into tears.
Bernie never missed a beat. She gave Molly’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, Molly, babies aren’t so awful. I’ve had two myself and I count them as two of the three best things that ever happened to me, my husband being the third. Joseph, how long are you planning to stay?”
“You can call me Joe, and I’ll stay as long as Molly will put up with me.” Given Molly’s highly emotional state, Joe figured this was a tactful response.
Bernie nodded. “Good. It’s tough facing such big events as a wedding and first baby when your family’s all back east. Though I will say, Molly has plenty of family right here.” She gave Molly’s shoulder another affectionate squeeze before retreating to get their beverages. Meanwhile the two old codgers on the bar stools had slid off their perches and were turning in their direction.
“Did we hear correct?” the bowlegged bewhiskered one said as they approached the table. He removed his hat respectfully. “You’re expecting a baby?” Then damn if he didn’t pull a huge red bandanna out of his hip pocket and hand it to Molly, and damn if she didn’t use it to blot her tears.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. Badger, Charlie, meet my big brother, Joseph,” Molly introduced through her tears. “He’s visiting us for a while. He lives in a big city back east and needs some vacation from all the smog. This is his first trip west. We’re taking him out to the Bow and Arrow after lunch.”
Joe shook hands with Badger and Charlie, feeling like he’d just stepped into a John Ford Western. “Good to meet you,” he said. “And the name’s Joe.”
“Katy Junction might seem small to you, being a big city slicker and all,” Badger said to Joe, “but some mighty big things happen around here. Just ask your sister—it ain’t never dull.”
“I’ve heard some of the stories,” Joe said. “I’m looking forward to seeing how wild the West still is.”
Badger rubbed his bewhiskered jaw. “Well, everyone knows the wildest critters live in the big city, and from the looks of you, some of ’em chewed you up good. But a few days out here’ll get you back on your feet. And your sister’s having a baby, that’s real good news,” Badger said. “It’ll give that little one out at the Bow and Arrow something to play with.”
“Little one?” Molly echoed.
“Ain’t you heard? Pony just took in another’n, just knee-high to a grasshopper. I saw it this mornin’ for the first time. Cute as a speckled pup. She don’t like my whiskers, though.”
“Who would?” Charlie said.
Molly wiped her eyes, blew her nose and cast an accusing look at Steven. “Why didn’t you tell me about the new baby?”
Steven shook his head. “Pony is my sister but she doesn’t tell me everything.”
* * *
BY TWO P.M. Steven was driving his Jeep Wagoneer down the last stretch of ranch road leading to the Bow and Arrow. Joe was dozing off his lunch, but he roused in time to take in the sweeping views, the creek and the old log cabin on its bank, the ranch buildings beyond on the knoll and what looked like the Continental Divide