“You’d be crazy to take him on,” Jim insisted.
“Maybe I am.” Keith shrugged. “Or maybe I just have a yen to own a sacred horse. We Injuns are kinda funny that way.”
“You really want that renegade stud?”
“Said so, didn’t I?” It was stupid as hell, but looking at the horse was like seeing himself, or who he would have been. He had no doubt that if he hadn’t left New York, he’d have ended up in juvenile detention. Only his grandfather’s patience, the freedom, and the wide-open spaces of Wyoming had saved him from that fate.
“It’s your neck, I s’pose.” Jim shook his head with a sigh. “Minimum adoption fee is a hundred twenty-five.”
“Will you take cash?”
“Sure ’nuff. Cash is real money.”
“What are you doing?” Miranda asked.
“Buying the horse,” Keith replied with a shrug.
“But why? Haven’t you said all along that you don’t believe in mustang adoption? What are you going to do with him?”
“Dunno yet. Maybe I’ll gift him to my grandfather.”
“Why?” Miranda asked. “Is black and white so uncommon?”
“It’s not so much the color combination as his markings. A horse like this is considered sacred in our culture. The dark place on the top of his head is called a medicine hat, and the splash of color on his chest is a war shield. These markings were highly prized by war chiefs and shaman,” Keith explained. “I have a few things to take care of,” he told Jim. “I’ll come back and pick him up in a couple of hours.”
“Suits me. I’m just happy to have him out of here. C’mon.” He clapped Keith on the shoulder. “You’ve still gotta do the paperwork.”
*
Thirty minutes later, Keith and Miranda left the prison. Her boots felt more like lead the closer she got to her car. “Thank you for bringing me out here, Keith. It was very enlightening. This whole experience has been.”
“Did you get everything you wanted?” he asked.
She paused. Everything she wanted? No. No, she didn’t get nearly enough of what she really wanted. She wished she could voice even half of what was in her heart, but he referred only to the film. As far as that went, she’d accomplished all she’d set out to do, filming the horse gather, the processing, and had even recorded some of the inmates training the horses. She should be elated with her successes, but her heart was as heavy as her feet.
“I think so,” she finally replied. “I have several weeks of editing work ahead of me to put this all together, but I’m pretty certain I know what I want to do with it. What about you?” she asked. “What will you do now?”
“I’ll be here in Nevada for two or three more weeks,” he replied. “After we’ve finished this contract, I’ll be heading back to Wyoming for a couple more gathers there.”
“Will you return to the reservation after that?”
“I don’t know.” He looked sad but resigned. “Probably not. I might look for some full-time ranch work. I haven’t decided yet.”
“If you want ranch work, maybe Jo-Jo would know of something?”
“Jo-Jo?”
“My grandmother. I told you she has a ranch. It’s my favorite place in the world…or always was.” Her smile faded.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“It’s been for sale for over a year, since my grandfather passed away. Jo-Jo really doesn’t want to sell it, but she can’t run it alone, not as a cattle outfit, anyway.”
“What about your father? Why doesn’t he help her?”
“My dad passed away when I was four. It was a stupid accident on a tractor.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know what it’s like. I lost my father too.”
“I barely recall it anymore,” she said “But what makes me sadder is that I hardly even remember him now, just a few fuzzy memories. He was an only son. His sister, my aunt Judith, couldn’t wait to get away from the ranch. They managed to get by with part-time help until Gramps died. But now Jo-Jo can’t afford to pay for more help, so she’s selling out. You know, this entire experience has me wondering what it would require to take on some of these BLM horses. Do ranchers get reimbursed for keeping them?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. They get paid a per diem for each head.” Keith’s gaze narrowed. “Why are you asking?”
“Maybe this is another option for her to consider? It seems to me these horses wouldn’t need anywhere near the time and care as cattle ranching, right? If the government offers a subsidy, maybe she could still keep the ranch?”
“C’mon, Miranda. Do you really think an old lady is capable of managing a herd of wild horses?”
“Old lady?” Miranda laughed. “You’ve never met Jo-Jo. She may be my grandma, but she’s anything but old. She can still rope and ride with the best of them.”
“She still couldn’t do it alone. It’s nothing like running cattle. She’d need full-time help from someone who knows these horses.”