Thread: A Place to Hang your Hat [AnnaBeth and Sigr]

Half a day, not counting time to ride out from the ranch to start the search, and still no sign of the missing calf. If she didn't find it today and drive it back in, or strap it down across the pack mule she was leading behind her horse, it wasn't going to be necessary to search tomorrow. That long without milk from her mother, a first-calf heifer that showed good promise for years of calves to come, and it would die. Not of exposure but from simple hunger-induced exhaustion that would either mean it would lay down and not bother to drink or the wolves would get it. There weren't a lot of them about, and they were a lot smaller than the telling of them from her grandpa and his buddies, but they occasionally cut out a weak animal and took it down. She wasn't planning to shoot one if she ran across it, but if she had to she would and it was covered under the need to protect livestock. Montana was still cattle country for all the more modern ideas it had adopted, and you just didn't let stock be killed. Coyotes, she had no qualms about putting one of those sneaky little bastards in the dirt, but wolves were special. Endangered really. A click of her tongue and a shift of her body caused her horse to stop and she stood up in the stirrups. The binoculars she used to glass the land were her grandfather's, just like the lever action rifle in the scabbard on the saddle and the old Colt pistol in a holster around her waist. Just because something was old didn't mean it wasn't useful, and Grandaddy said he'd taken the binoculars off a German officer back in WWII though she suspected that was just so much hornswaggle, a good story and not exactly a lie. Looking as much for the calf as for circling birds or thinking about the way an animal would walk, what parts of the terrain it would follow which was different than that from what a person would, she saw that there was a car with a trailer stopped on the narrow, not much used road that cut across the bottom of the valley. Her horse shifted under her. Hold still, Ace, she said and squeezed in with her legs against his barrel chest, getting a whicker from him and a tail flick that almost slapped her calves but he held still. Half-turned in her saddle she studied the car, wondering why it was stopped, then saw a figure, thought it was a woman by how short she was, climb up on the hood and look around like she was lost. A few more minutes of study made her believe she wasn't lost but her car was broke down. Knowing there was no cell service, and figuring any fool dumb enough to drive a low slung sports car, towing a trailer nonetheless, wouldn't know what to do besides get themselves hurt, she sighed and abandoned, for the moment, the search for the calf. The suggestion of her heels in Ace's ribs put him into motion and she neck reined him towards the car far, far below. It was probably a thousand foot difference between where she was on the side of the mountain, and a good two miles distant. Took them almost a half hour to get down there, horse and mule and woman, until she started to come up on the car from the right hand side. She stopped about fifty feet away. You didn't just ride right up on someone. Fingers to her lips, she gave a short, sharp whistle. The mule's ears pricked up and he brayed in protest at the sound. Don't pay him no mind, lady, she called to the woman she saw emerge from the car. Mule ain't got nothing to say anyhow. He's just mad I'm working him today. Names Beth. Beth McCurdy , she said and sketched a hand to the brim of the open weave straw cowboy hat she wore, so much more practical than a felt one for summer. Looks like you got some car troubles. She was slim and tall, taller than Alba by at least a head, and seemed painfully young. Long straight red hair that blew freely in the breeze was kept off her face by the cowboy hat, a hat that shaded a milky complexioned face full of freckles, a wide generous mouth and snub nose, and eyes the color of the small pretty cornflowers that blossomed in leftover hay. She wore jeans with leather chaps, a white cami top over which she had on a long-sleeved blue and white cotton plaid shirt, and of course pointy-toed cowboy boots that were well used but also showed a lot of care in them, scratched in places and with the soles worn down but still polished or at least oiled often to keep them from cracking. Beth swung her right leg out of the stirrup and dismounted on the left hand side, dropping the reins to the ground in front of Ace. He wouldn't wander more than to graze and she looped the lead of the mule around the saddle horn and snubbed it off. The mule would wander, out of sheer contrariness if for no other reason, and would enjoy making her chase him across the countryside. The big Colt revolver on it's leather belt hung low on her right hip, belt higher on the left, just like a gunfighter from old. The rifle she left in its scabbard on the saddle and the butt of it poked just above. On the left, where it was visible to Alba, was the distinctive coil of a lasso. Excuse me, she said, walking past Alba and leaning in the open window of the car. Blinking hard to adjust to the dim interior, she found the hood latch and popped it, then went to the front of the car and pushed it up, using the little rod to keep it from falling on her. It didn't take long to see what was wrong. There's your problem, she said and motioned Alba over. See there? That black rubber thing that's all tore up? That's the belt, and you need a new one because this filly ain't going nowhere until you get one. Sorry, not an easy fix and patch we can do here. Beth wiped the black grease and grim from her hands on the back of her jeans, like she was rubbing her butt, and looked calmly at the shorter, dark-haired woman. Your cell phone don't work, I reckon. Never does out here. Closest place with a working phone is our spread. Well, you're on our spread technically but I mean the house. You want to leave a note on the off chance the Sheriff comes this way before we head out? Or get anything you need to bring? Mike might as well do some work today, she said and tossed her head at the mule who showed all of his teeth in a warning look.