Wade shifted his weight and sighed. It was obvious he was bored by the story he’d no doubt heard a thousand times before.
Brandon said, “If you’re asking me to make you whole out of the proceeds of the ranch, I don’t know how I can do it. There are liens on the equipment and the cattle, and the old man hadn’t paid any bills in months. He might have always had a roll of cash on him but he didn’t use it to pay off his debts. All those people are filing claims and they get their money first when everything gets sold. I sympathize but I just don’t know what I can do.”
Pingston stared at Brandon for a long time. Finally, he said, “I kind of figured that.”
“So why are you here?” Marissa asked, exasperated.
“I want that ’48 Power Wagon,” Pingston said.
“What?” Brandon asked. A wave of relief flooded through him but he tried hard to conceal it.
“It’s a goddamn classic,” Wade said.
Pingston nodded and said, “People don’t realize what a workhorse that truck was. The greatest ranch vehicle ever made. Three-quarter-ton four-by-four perfected in WW Two. After the war, all the rural ex-GIs wanted one here like they’d used over there. That original ninety-four horse, two-hundred-and-thirty-cubic-inch flathead six wouldn’t win no races but it could grind through the snow and mud, over logs, through the brush and willows. It was tough as a damn rock. Big tires, high clearance, a winch on the front. We could load a ton of cargo on that son of a bitch and still drive around other pickups stuck in a bog.”
Brandon shook his head, puzzled. “That’s what you want?”
Pingston nodded. “Look, I suppose you’re thinking that if I restored that beast to its former glory, I could make a lot of money on it and you’re right. I’ve seen where some of ’em sell for seventy thousand or more in cherry condition. But I don’t give a crap about that. I want to fix it up and get it running. This one is too damned beat up to ever amount to much.”
“Then why do you want it?”
“It means something to me,” Pingston said. “That was the truck I drove every damned day I worked on this ranch. Twelve years, Brandon. I know that truck as intimately as I do Peggy.”
Peggy smirked at that. Brandon thought that odd.
Pingston said, “I know when to downshift going up a vertical hill, how to power through six-foot drifts, how to use that winch to pull myself up the side of a damned cliff. If I ever go elk hunting again, that’s the vehicle I want to take.
“Plus,” Pingston said with a wink, “it’s the truck I borrowed to go to town when your old man sent me up the river. I like the idea of that old bastard rolling in his grave knowing I’m riding around in high style in the Power Wagon he owned all his life. It gives me a small measure of satisfaction, if you know what I mean.”
Marissa said, “If we give you the truck, will you all go away?”
“That was rude,” Peggy said. She folded her thick arms over her bosom.
Brandon said, “I should discuss this with my brothers and sister, you know. We all have a say in how the assets are divided up.”
That’s when Wade stepped forward and said, “We don’t have the time.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Brandon saw Marissa tense up and move back.
Brandon said, “If I give it to you, how are you going to get it out of here? I doubt it’ll start after all these years. I don’t even know if it still has a motor in it—or tires. And I don’t even know if it’s in the shed out there.”
“Oh, we brung a tow rope in the Jeep,” Pingston assured him.
Brandon hoped that the Power Wagon was not only in the shed but also in good enough shape for them to take it away that night. He was still basking in the relief he’d felt at the words I want that ’48 Power Wagon.
Even if it didn’t make any sense. Four people to retrieve a truck? In the snow? At night?
“If it’s there, it’s yours,” he said to Pingston.
Wade grinned and said, “Let’s go check it out.”
“I’m going too,” Tater said.
“No,” Pingston said sharply. “You stay here with your mother and Marissa.”
And Brandon felt the fear creep back inside.
“Why don’t you all come with me?” Brandon asked.
“No,” Pingston said sharply. “Peggy don’t need to stand around outside in this weather while we mess around with an old truck.”
But Brandon heard, I want my son to stay in here and keep an eye on Marissa so she doesn’t try anything.
When he looked over at his wife, Marissa nodded to him and mouthed, Go.
It took a while for Brandon to locate a set of keys in the old man’s desk that might open the old shed. While he searched, Wade kept a close eye on him from the door. More than once, Brandon caught Wade glancing toward the gun cabinet.
“Okay,” Brandon said when he found a ring of ancient keys. “I can’t guarantee anything but one of these might work.” None of them were marked or labeled.