“Well, there’s several elements to her ranch. She runs a day tourist facility for families from June through August. And then she has a regular cattle operation, and a very small buffalo one that she utilizes for meat sales to a big national grocery chain.”
“She sounds like a good businesswoman,” Reese said. “She’s assessed her ranch, looked at how to make money with it. With Highway 89A parallel to her ranch, she has a chance to snag a lot of tourists coming through. I’d like to meet her sometime.”
“I’ll make it happen. Maud has spearheaded ecological changes to ranches in the area. We had a pollution runoff problem and she worked with the state to stop it. She also is eager to bring tourists into this area for all the businesses and ranches. She wants people to stop here for a while on their way north to the Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks about a hundred miles away. She’s also actively working with the National Park Service to see if the ranches in this valley can get tourists to stop and consider hiking and camping in the Salt River Mountains. Her hundred thousand acres include the flatland of the valley, as well as the hills and slopes of the Salt Range.”
“You remind me of Maud,” Reese said, giving her a warm look, seeing the surprise come to her eyes.
“How do you mean?”
“You have vision, too, Shay. You approach your ranch with common sense. You balance the needs of the wrangler vets with your budget, and you’re doing a good job.”
She laughed a little shyly. “Well, just wait! I know I’ve messed up the accounting books. I’m expecting you to call me into the office and drop the hammer on me.”
“Who told you that you were bad at math?” he wondered.
“Oh, my father.”
“What made him say that about you?”
Squirming, Shay said, “I grew up afraid of him, Reese. I always lived in fear of him. When he’d drink, which was often, I’d go hide in my room, afraid he’d come after me. I couldn’t study. I couldn’t think. My grades were average in school. And math was a hurdle for me anyway, but I was afraid to ask my mom for help. And I sure wasn’t going to ask my father. He always says women are stupid. I wasn’t going to him and hear him confirm it.”
Reese heard the pain in her voice, the tight set of her full lips as they rode. “Why does he think women are stupid?”
Shrugging, Shay said, “His father, my grandfather Hank, believed in punishment. My father was his only son and he was hard on him in every way. He owned a furniture store in town. I never liked my grandfather, either. I stayed away from him as much as I could. Grandfather Hank lived at the house with us when my Grandmother died. I hated when those two got into fights. My grandfather was always berating my father, belittling him, telling him he was a loser.”
“Sounds like you had a really rough childhood,” Reese said, giving her an understanding look. He could see the loss in Shay’s face. “Was your mother able to stand between you and your father?” He knew it was a deeply personal question, but this morning Shay seemed pensive and more available to him. Maybe because she was so sleep-deprived. Reese really didn’t know, but he wanted to understand the family dynamic she was raised within. It defined who she was today.
“No . . . my father was horrible toward my mother. Always putting her down, calling her stupid, saying that the only thing she was good for was to cook, clean, and keep things going in the house. Never mind that she was terrific at keeping the accounting and bookkeeping.”
“If she couldn’t protect you, then who did?” Reese felt his stomach tightening, getting protective of Shay because he saw the anguish in her eyes.
“No one. I made myself a shadow, if you want the truth, Reese. I stayed in my room a lot, or I went and rode my horse away from the main ranch area to escape all the awful anger and arguments in the house. In the winter, it was worse because snowdrifts can pile up to ten feet and I couldn’t go ride and escape. I just hid in my room . . . and tried to survive.”
Chapter Seven
“Maud? I need your help,” Shay said after they’d finished their lunch at Kassie’s Café. The place was usually busy, but when the tourists came in from May through August, it was totally packed. They sat in a booth near the corner opposite the swinging double doors to the place.
Maud Whitcomb smiled. “How can I help you, Shay?”
She gave the fifty-five-year-old woman with black and silver hair a slight smile. Dressed in her white cowboy shirt and jeans, Maud always had her frayed red baseball cap nearby, sitting next to her elbow. She was a role model for fifty-somethings, not looking her age at all. Most people thought she was around forty. Giving Maud a shrug, she said, “You know the struggles I’ve had since coming home.”
“Indeed I do.” Maud folded her hands, her coffee mug to the right. “I keep telling you to let us help you, Shay. You’re such a fighter but you think you have to do everything alone, and you don’t.” Maud gave her a kindly look. “You’re young, you’re passionate, but now, you’ve got four vets you’re trying to help.”