Cowboy Crazy

chapter 35



Lane pulled into the parking garage across from the Carrigan building, cruising down an empty row to take a space at the end. The garage had been built by the city in some unrealistic fit of optimism during the last boom. The police department used it, so there were half a dozen cop cars parked on one side, but other than that he had his pick.

He strode down the short stretch of sidewalk and through the swinging doors to the Carrigan building. Standing in the elevator, he glanced at his reflection and quickly looked away. He’d made the mistake of gussying up for the visit to Carrigan headquarters, and now he knew where the expression “dressed to kill” came from. His brand-new Wranglers were so stiff he could barely bend his knees, and the bolo tie at his throat was slowly strangling him to death.

He wasn’t sure why he’d felt compelled to citify himself that morning. It wasn’t like he needed to impress Eric. Eric knew who he was no matter what he wore.

But it was about time he took things more seriously as far as the company was concerned. Sarah had convinced him of that much. He’d always felt a responsibility to the communities surrounding their operations, but he’d believed it was a responsibility to preserve and protect the status quo. Sarah had made him realize that wasn’t all they needed to do. He’d been right in his conviction that drilling rigs and trailer towns ruined the landscape. But he hadn’t thought about the fact that people might be more than willing to trade their pristine landscape and quaint towns for things that were more essential to survival, like medical care and law enforcement.

The West was going to change. It was his job, and Eric’s, to make sure it changed for the better. It had been Sarah’s job too, up until the day before. Maybe he could do something about that too.

“Hey, bro.” Eric lowered his feet from the desk, where his polished loafers had been crossed casually on the shining wood. “What’s with the new duds?” His face changed from mockery to dread in an instant. “Oh, shit. You’re looking for Sarah.”

“Nope. I heard.”

“It wasn’t anything personal. I just—she couldn’t…” He waved a hand helplessly. “Two Shot’s the only game we’ve got going right now, and she couldn’t do us any good there. She—wait. How did you hear?”

“I was there.”

“With Sarah?” A smile spread over Eric’s face. “I guess she can do one of us some good in Two Shot.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Okay. Whatever. But I’ll give her a good recommendation wherever she ends up. She’s good at what she does—she just can’t do it in Two Shot.”

“That’s between you and her.”

“Exactly. So why are you here? Must be serious. You shaved and everything.”

“I shave.”

“Yeah, once a week, whether you need it or not.”

Lane settled into the chair in front of the desk and stretched his legs out. Sitting there with Eric lording it over the big mahogany desk always made him feel like some kind of supplicant. But today, he was just that.

“I want to talk to you about Two Shot.”

“Not again,” Eric groaned. “Lane, the project’s going forward. You can’t stop it.”

“I’m thinking about a conservation easement.” Lane leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, smug as if he’d just laid out a winning poker hand. “It won’t entirely prevent you from drilling on the ranch, but it’ll make it a pain in the ass.”

Eric paled. “Great. Do the people of Two Shot know what you’re doing to them? Hijacking the jobs and money we bring in?”

“The jobs and money come too late. You bring all those people into those small towns, there’s nowhere for them to go. You see it over and over. People slap up substandard buildings to house them. The men come on their own, because their wives won’t bring their families to these godforsaken little towns. You need to put some things in place before things get going. And if you do, I’ll cancel the easement.”

“What kind of things?”

Lane shrugged. “Ask the townspeople. You could get together with all those pillars of the community, just like you were going to have Sarah do. But instead of trying to talk them into giving us free rein, figure out how to help them get grants, loans, that kind of thing. And maybe Carrigan could get things started with a grant of their own.”

“You want me to shell out money before we even start?”

“Dad would have done it. If he’d have seen Midwest, he’d have wanted to prevent it from happening again.”

“So this grant…”

“They need a medical clinic and an ambulance. Right now if something happens at the drilling site you have to drive all the way to Casper. And law enforcement—the place doesn’t even have a real police station.”

“That’s millions of dollars.”

“And how much will you take out of the ground?”

Eric was silent.

“Plus when people see what you’ve done, it’ll be that much easier to get going in other places. Responsibility brings rewards. That’s what Dad always said.”

“Don’t bring Dad into this.”

“Why not? He’s the reason you do all this.” Lane gestured around the room. “You’re still trying to please him.”

Eric scowled. “It’s easy for you to make fun of that. You were always getting pats on the back with all your sports stuff.”

“He didn’t have any respect for that. Not once he figured out that winning at bronc busting didn’t translate to winning in business. He’d be proud of you, Eric. Especially if you do this.”

Eric moved a couple of pens from one side of his blotter to the other, then back again.

“Look, I’m not here to harangue you. I just wanted to make that suggestion.”

Eric huffed out a laugh. “Your suggestions sound a lot like demands.”

“Yeah, well, kind of.” Lane rose. “You want to drill on the ranch, you need to do something for the town. Otherwise, there’s going to be trouble.”

“We own those rights.” The bravado in Eric’s voice clashed with the tempo of his pencil-tapping, which was taking on the frantic urgency of a heavy metal drum solo. “You can’t stop us.”

“No, but I can make it hell for you to make so much as a tire track on the property. And if you try to get around it, I can make it news.”

Eric sighed. “How am I supposed to get all that done? We’re an oil company, not a community development company.”

“Dunno,” Lane said. “You’re the business guy. I’m just a dumb cowboy, remember?” He looked up at the ceiling as if searching for answers. “Maybe you need to hire somebody who knows what the town needs. Somebody who lived there.”

***

Sarah pulled the Malibu to a stop at the fork in the road and quickly recited the Robert Frost “The Road Not Taken” poem in her head. No, this wasn’t a case of taking the road less traveled; both roads were equally scarred and pitted, so she couldn’t even figure out which one that was. This was a matter of taking the right road.

She should go back to the cabin, grab the few belongings she’d left there, and leave. But what she wanted to do was go to the ranch and see Cinn just one more time, maybe even spend the day with him.

It would be a rash, impulsive move, the kind of thing Sarah Landon never did. She’d spent the last ten years building her career by avoiding that kind of self-indulgence. She’d taken the hard road, over and over, denying herself the freedom of turning off her predetermined path. She’d been disciplined and hardworking, responsible and dependable.

And where had it gotten her? To the crossroads of Nowhere Street and Disaster Road. What the hell did it matter which way she turned? Either way, she was screwed.

So she might as well go play with that horse.

She’d have to talk to Trevor first. Yesterday’s getting-to-know-you session hadn’t required anything but herself and the horse, but to go any further she’d need a halter, a lead, maybe a lunge whip for ground training.

That would mean facing Trevor’s teasing, and probably a bunch of questions about Lane. Maybe she should just hunt down the equipment and find the horse. It was wrong, she knew, to just go on and do what you wanted with an animal. But what had Lane said?

He’s your horse if you stay.

Well, she was staying, wasn’t she? Maybe just for today, but still—that made him hers.