“OK, but remember—no expectations?” she asked. “I don’t want to get pushed.”

  “I’m not pushin you, Shel.” He looked at her, and she wanted to believe it despite her irritation. “Thanks for coming t’ dinner and doin the cookin,” he said. “I liked havin you here with us.”

  She kissed him lightly on his lips. “You guys have fun. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  **

  Saturday morning she came back to the ranch to go for a ride with Julia. By nine it was already in the mid-sixties with a forecast high in the late afternoon close to ninety degrees. Julia was a Montana girl, and she had lived on the ranch with Arlen for almost a year. They were only about six houses down from Matt. She was in her middle twenties, an inch or two taller than Shel, slender and athletic with a bright, friendly personality. They were getting their saddles and bridles from the tack room while Dillon, the barn manager, sat at a small table in the corner of the room working on something, his back to them. Shel greeted him as they entered, and he grunted a friendly response. She looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see he was tying flies.

  “Matt told me you were a fly-fisherman,” she said. He looked up at her, smiling, and nodded. Shel went on, “That’s one of the things I really wanted to do when I came out here, but I’ve been so busy. My dad taught me when I was in high school and I brought my rod and everything when I came. Will you show me some spots sometime?”

  He took his time answering, and she worried that in her excitement she’d been talking too fast.

  “Sure, I can do that. Me and Arlen go every few weeks. We got brookies down here, but you can go up t’ the big mountains for rainbow and cutthroat. There’s some cricks out of the Little Belt not too far south we know.”

  “Yeah, sometimes they even bring a few back,” Julia said with a smile.

  “Tell you what, Shel,” he said, “bring your gear on Monday and we’ll go through it together one day during the week. Arlen and me, we’re talkin about next Sunday. Want t’ come? You can tell Mary and Julia we don’t just drink beer all day and fall asleep under trees.” He shot an amused glance at Julia.

  “Do you think Matt will give you the day off?” Julia asked Shel, grinning.

  “You can have him for the day,” she said, “When we come back with tons of fish, he can cook them for us all. His son Charlie says he’s really good at cooking fish.” Dillon and Julia laughed at that, then the two women collected their tack and went to prepare their horses.

  They rode southeast, across the rolling land toward the Little Belt Mountains and the national forest. Shel felt herself unwind as they rode, far away from the stress of her secret life and Colin’s badgering and the tension she was feeling between that and her relationship with Matt. It was taking more and more energy for her to compartmentalize the two threads in her daily life, and out here she didn’t have to choose which was more important to her.

  Shel’s confidence in her horsemanship was increasing. As she rode side by side with Julia, they talked about events in their workweeks and gossiped about the ranch. She looked around at the grasslands and ahead at the hills and felt her tension fading, like an overcast day clearing. Shel felt genuinely relaxed for the first time in days, if not weeks. When they arrived at the hills, Julia led the way up a steep forested canyon. Tall pines crowded in on the trail so the high, hot July sun was just a speckly presence. The only sounds were their voices and the birds above in the trees.

  Without warning, Julia’s horse, Patty, stopped, whiffled, and backed up a few steps. Shel and Spitfire were a length behind, and he first pricked up his ears, then he whiffled too, and rather than stopping he sidestepped left and right a couple of times, shaking his head. Shel pulled back on the reins, gripped him with her thighs, and struggled for her own balance. She said “whoa” a couple of times until he calmed and stood still.

  Up ahead Julia was looking over her shoulder at Shel, finger to her lips to say “quiet” and raising an eyebrow to ask “you OK?” Shel nodded, admiring again Julia’s effortless poise on her horse.

  Julia turned away to look ahead at the trail and from side to side. As she did, she reached back on her right and undid the flap of her saddlebag, put her hand in, all the while watching and listening, and silently drew out a revolver. She held it pointing upward in her right hand, above her shoulder, still looking and listening, and pulled back the hammer with her thumb, the clicks as she did so seeming to echo up and down the trail.

  Shel was agog. She had seen rifles stored in the gun closet at the ranch office, but she had never seen one out before. This was Montana, she knew people hunted, they had rifles. Growing up near Syracuse she had known people who hunted. But this thing, glinting silvery in the dappled sunlight, huge in Julia’s hand, its round barrel like a blunt wand awaiting the command to cast forth a spell—it shocked her. She stared. It was personal. It might as well have had a little flag on the barrel saying “You’re not from here” in sparkly bright letters. It felt like a barrier between her and Julia, the trail, the forest, the ranch, even Matt—almost a solid wall. For a moment her confidence evaporated, and she was having an out-of-body experience, seeing it all, including herself, from a distance.

  Spitfire pawed the ground once, and his movement brought Shel back: I’ve learned to ride the horses, I can damn well learn about the guns. She waited silently for Julia, and felt Spitfire breathing under her and heard his breath. Julia watched and listened. The seconds stretched to minutes. Julia lowered the gun, and Shel heard the clicks again as she reset the hammer. “We’re good,” Julia said as she turned to Shel. “I dunno what spooked ’em, but there’s bears and wolves in these forests so you have t’ pay attention. You OK? You look kind of pale.”

  “No, I’m good. The gun surprised me, that’s all.”

  “Spitfire behavin himself?”

  “He’s good,” Shel replied. “I got him. Thanks.” She was still nervous, but she was pleased with herself that she had been able to keep control of her horse. Julia gave Patty a gentle kick to get her going again, and they continued up the canyon. Shel paid close attention to Spitfire to make sure he was keeping pace and that she was ready if there was uneven ground, but when she could she looked about the forest and up through the occasional open spot at the canyon walls. She wondered what she didn’t hear that Julia did. Or see.

  They arrived at the top of the canyon in another quarter hour, and the trail widened as the trees thinned out on the wide ridge. Shel pulled up beside Julia. “Down there,” Julia said, “it looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

  “It was the gun, and the horses spooking. I was surprised. Is it really that dangerous out here?”

  “Could be. Since I was a kid there’s been more and more animals in the forests. The feds started reintroducin the wolves back then. They stay off the open grazin land mostly. Bison aren’t scared of ’em anyway. And the ranch limits deer huntin so they have somethin t’ eat instead of our stock. But sometimes you’ll come across ’em, and it’s best t’ be ready t’ scare ’em off. Didn’t Matt tell you any of this?”

  “Usually I’m with him so maybe he’s got something in his saddle bag,” Shel replied. “I’ve never even seen one like that, yours, not in real life, except on a policeman.”

  Julia looked at Shel in amazement. “You never saw a pistol before? Never fired one?” Shel shook her head. “Well, we’re gonna have t’ do somethin about that. Maybe you were OK back east but out here, especially on the land, you need t’ be able t’ protect yourself.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “I got a little .22 pistol I can loan you, and I’ll give you some lessons out on the range.” Julia grinned. Shel thought maybe it would be fun, bring her another step closer to these people and this place.

  They talked about fishing on the way back, which excited Shel’s desire to fish even more. Julia, it turned out, did go out with Arlen for trout once in a while. They both talked about how busy the men were with the ant farm work on top of their regular ranch work. Julia told Shel a couple of Arlen’s stories about what he regarded as crazy stuff going into the ant farm, but like everyone else on the ranch, he didn’t know what the project would actually be. The stories he was hearing revolved around cattle, bison, and horses, but none of these had any specificity to them.

  She liked Julia. There was an easy, friendly way about her, and she seemed to enjoy helping Shel adapt to ranch life. The ranch people were a community like she hadn’t had since grade school. They had welcomed her and shared with her. Once the project was out in the open and her assignment ended—if she wasn’t found out first—she hoped she could find a way to stay.

  **

  Sunday morning at the café with her coffee and newsfeed Shel reflected on the weekend so far. She liked Matt more the more time they spent together. Dinner Friday had been a highlight, almost like playing family even with Charlie’s off-putting question. They had agreed in advance to show no signs of their mutual, and currently burning-hot, feeling for each other because Matt was afraid it would confuse Charlie. Shel was a friend, and that was all Charlie needed to know. But she knew what was in Matt’s refrigerator and planned to bring some dinner and her toothbrush after work Tuesday so she could hear all about the weekend from Matt, even if it took the whole night. In the afternoon Shel wrote her weekly report to Colin between shopping and house cleaning. She was having dinner and reading a book when her tab notified her that Colin wanted to talk. Damn! She went to her bathroom, checked security, fired up the secure tab, put on the noise suppressing helmet, and sat down on the toilet.

  “Interesting report, Shel,” he began. “Too bad that cable’s dead.”

  “It is?” She was disappointed. “Steve wasn’t interested in trying to connect it anyway. He’s already pissed off at PAS and AstroGene for dumping so much extra work on us for the construction, and he’s worried that whatever the project turns out to be it’ll drain more resources from the ranch.”

  “You have more rumors about the project than a dog has fleas,” Colin said.

  “More like a pack of dogs,” replied Shel. “Enough that it boils down to nobody knows anything. There may be some sort of equipment that will give it away, but if there is they haven’t brought it or will at the last minute.”

  “Yeah. Your report sounds like you’re getting comfortable there, really settling in.”

  “All the ranch people are really friendly. We were riding yesterday and the horses got a little spooked and I couldn’t believe it but Julia pulled out this huge pistol. She said it was in case there were wolves or bears”

  “Never handled a gun before?” Colin asked. He’s being conversational, Shel thought. What’s up?

  “Never. I told her that and she couldn’t believe I had achieved the ripe old age of thirty without learning to use a gun. She seemed really concerned and offered to train me. I thought I might take her up on it. When in Rome, y’know.”

  “Are you going native?” Colin asked, his tone bordering on harsh.

  “No, I am not going native. I couldn’t if I tried.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re getting pretty friendly with these people you’re supposed to be watching and getting information from.”

  “Look, Colin,” Shel replied, now becoming angry, “I am doing what I came here to do. Sure, I like these people. But I am committed to stopping whatever bioengineering project this ranch is being used for. That doesn’t mean I can’t get to know people and like them. They’re not the ones slicing and dicing the DNA.”

  “What about this guy Matt? You keep talking about him in your reports. Do you have something going with him? Don’t let that cowboy affect your judgment, or your commitment.”

  “We are friends, nothing more.” She was angrier now. “I am out here, on my own and—I might add—on my own dime, trying to get information you apparently can’t get on your own. What about your hackers? What’s with them that they can’t get into a data system on a fucking cattle ranch? Maybe you need to look there for some commitment.” Her voice was getting loud.

  “Don’t tell me my job. I know more about what we’re doing than you do. You just get your job done and don’t get diverted by some ranch hand stud who’ll drop you in the dirt the second he finds out about you,” he shouted back at her.

  “Fuck you, Colin!” she shouted, but he had already broken the connection. She was angry, and now she was scared as well. Nothing but whiskey in the glass tonight.

  Chapter 10

  Matt was exhausted when he returned home on Tuesday night. It was nearly eight, and he had been up since before six that morning. He had taken Charlie to meet Chad and Doris out on Highway 89, gone to the ant farm, and chased both the fence contractor and the concrete contractor most of the day. The concrete guy was more or less on schedule, but the fence people were weeks behind. He spoke with Daniel, who, as usual, didn’t have any helpful suggestions. Back at the main ranch Steve said he would talk to the PAS bigwigs and see what could be done. It really wasn’t the ranch’s problem, Steve told him. He had been as helpful as he could, and he had a ranch to run.

  Matt had caught up with Eddy and Alan to see what they were doing on the ranch and spent the rest of his day repairing solar-panel support frames.

  After work the sight of Shel’s car in front of his prefab gave him a warm glow. Their embrace when he came in was close, tight, and he felt the accumulated stress of the day melt away.

  “Sorry, Shel,” he said as he sat down at the kitchen table for dinner. “I’m wiped out. Between work today and Charlie runnin my ass off all weekend—I never imagined he had that much energy,” Matt said, laughing, “I’m totally wasted.”

  “That’s OK. Eat some dinner, take a bath, and go to bed. I’ll clean up the kitchen and tuck you in. Don’t worry about a thing. I can see you’re tired.” He smiled across the table at her, grateful for her being there. “You and Charlie had fun over the weekend?” she asked.

  He relaxed in his chair and stared off into space as he recounted the weekend for her: Charlie exultant at catching a big fish, pausing in the forest to listen to birds, swimming in the river during the heat of the day. “It was great. These long days are somethin—six in the mornin till nine or later at night. And he likes t’ talk so I’m up t’ date on all his friends, what they do on summer vacation, soccer, baseball. And his little sister, she seems t’ be a fascinatin mystery t’ him.”

  “Sounds like you had a pretty intense time of it. I’m glad.”

  “What all did you do over the weekend?” he asked.

  “I went riding on Saturday with Julia.” She paused. “Do you take a gun when we go out riding?”

  “Sometimes, depends on where we’re goin and how long. Why?”

  “We were riding up a canyon toward the southeast, and the horses spooked a little. I handled it.” He nodded and smiled, then she continued, “Julia pulled this huge pistol out of her saddle bag. She said if there were bears or wolves it would scare them away. I’ve never fired a gun much less seen one up close. She said it was a .357 or something.”

  Matt responded casually, “That’s a pretty big piece for someone like Julia, I’m impressed. It sure would make the wild animals think twice, the noise that gun makes. If you got a really crazy bear you’d have t’ hit it four or five times t’ stop it. You want t’ learn t’ shoot?”

  “Julia said she’d give me some lessons if I wanted,” Shel replied, then smiled. “Starting with something like a grown-up BB gun, I gathered. Oh, and I’m going fishing with Dillon and Arlen next Sunday, and you’ll be stuck entertaining Julia and Mary.”

  He raised an eyebrow and replied, “Could be worse. You’re not worried about the competition?”

  “Nah. They’ve already got their cowboys.” She laughed, and he grinned. “You three will make dinner, and when we fishermen return with our catch, it’ll be your job to cook it for us.” This was so unexpected that Matt genuinely laughed.

  “I’ll stock up on butter,” he said.

  “And cheap white wine.”

  “That how they do it back east? Not beer?”

  “Up to you. Jeez, you look tired. Go take a bath and I’ll clean up.” He nodded, hauled himself up, and stumbled to the bathroom, where he poured himself a hot bath. Twenty minutes later Shel looked in on him. “Still awake?” He nodded slowly. “Need a scrub anywhere?” she asked with a sly grin.

  “Save your energy, Shel.” He leaned forward and pulled the plug. “If I can stay vertical long enough t’ get t’ my room and fall into bed, I’ll be good with that.”

  Matt woke up in the early morning after eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, feeling rested. He carefully got out of bed so as not to disturb Shel, went to the bathroom, and came back to bed. Despite his care to not disturb or wake her as he gently slid himself back into bed and against her warm, smooth skin, she opened one eye wide to look at him, clearly awake, and said, “Howdy, stranger,” in a low throaty drawl. They kissed, embraced, and made love without any more said.

  **

  The rest of his week through Saturday afternoon was a blaze of work. He and Eddy and Alan were going full tilt, and he had drafted a couple of the ranch hands to join them. Arlen and his helper were also running a mile a minute with electrical work. The word was out that the new project, whatever it was, would arrive at the ant farm August 21, just four weeks away, which heightened the tension they all felt about the work.

  Shel stayed the night on Saturday. Arlen and Dillon were knocking on the door before seven in the morning to take her fishing. She had shown Matt all her fishing gear, and he had been suitably complimentary even though it just looked like fishing stuff. After the three left, Matt went back to bed for several hours then went to town for groceries. Julia came over around three, and Mary a bit later. The three of them sat on Matt’s deck, chatting and drinking a few beers before getting the dinner started. Matt asked Julia, “Do you really carry a .357 in you saddle bag?”