In Plain Sight

“It was good, though,” she said. “I do wish you could learn to make a smaller pot, maybe.”

Since he didn’t know how to make a pot of chili for less than a dozen people, and every time he tried to make less it was a disaster, Marybeth had filled two Tupperware containers of it for the freezer. Actually, Joe didn’t really want to learn how to make less chili at a time, since he liked having leftovers available, especially these days, when he was never sure when Marybeth would be home from her office or if dinner would be planned. But he didn’t want to tell her that. And, like most men, he wanted her to think he was largely incompetent in the kitchen.

“What do you think of Sheridan going to the Scarlett’s for a sleepover?” Marybeth asked. Sheridan had brought it up during dinner.

Joe scrubbed harder. “Julie seems like a nice girl,” he said. “It’s the rest of her family who’re nuts.”

“I know what you mean. I got calls today from both Arlen and Hank. Each wants me to meet with him and see what I can do to streamline their business operations.”

“Both of them, eh?”

“Both of them.”

“Uh-oh.”

Since Opal’s disappearance, sides had been forming in Saddlestring and the county. People were either pro-Arlen and anti-Hank, or vice versa. Both brothers kept close track of who was with them, and who was against them. Arlen preferred the Saddlestring Burg-O-Pardner for his mid-morning coffee, where he could chat with the town fathers. Hank never set foot in the place. Likewise, Hank liked his shot and a beer at the Stockman, often accompanied by several of his ranch hands. Arlen never darkened the door of that bar.

The town was just big enough that there were two of most things—two feed stores, grocery stores, banks, hardware stores, auto-parts stores, lumber stores—so the brothers could choose. In the instance that there was only one business, such as the movie theater and medical clinic, one or the other brother claimed it outright and the other traveled north to the next larger city—Billings, Montana.

Since the Scarletts spent a lot of money in town, the choice between pro-Arlen or pro-Hank was an important business decision, and one not made on a whim. Marybeth had told Joe about it, how her clients agonized over which brother to court. It was just as important, she said, that when a brother was chosen, not a single kind word be spoken about the other. That was considered disloyalty, and reason to pull their business. The loyalty to one brother or the other extended to their ranch hands as well, and merchants had to keep track of who worked for whom.

Now, with calls from both brothers on the same day, Marybeth would have to make the same decision so many of her clients had made.

THERE WERE RUMORS of war on the Thunderhead Ranch. The stories filtered through the community every day. The word was that Hank and Arlen had each hired more men than they needed for normal ranch operations. No one doubted the new men could serve as soldiers in an all-out range battle for ownership and dominance of the family ranch. Locks were put on gates, and harsh words exchanged over the fences. Sugar was poured into the gas tanks of ranch vehicles. Irrigation valves were turned off, or turned on when they shouldn’t be, or the water was diverted from one side of the ranch to the other.

Robey told Joe that Arlen’s new foreman claimed that someone from Hank’s side had taken a shot at him, the bullet entering his open driver’s-side window, barely missing his nose, and exiting the open passenger’s-side window. Since there was no proof that a shot had been fired other than the foreman’s account and only soiled Wranglers to confirm he’d been scared, McLanahan filed away the complaint.

Then two of Hank’s men charged they’d been run off the highway by a pickup clearly belonging to Arlen Scarlett. But no pickup matching the description could be found.

An editorial in the Saddlestring Roundup ran a long list of bulleted items that had reportedly occurred between the two brothers on the ranch. The editorial ended with the sentence, “Will it be necessary to call in the Wyoming National Guard to prevent a full-fledged bloodletting?”

“SO, WHO YOU gonna choose?” Joe asked.

Marybeth frowned and shook her head. “I wish I didn’t have to choose either.”

“That’s an option, isn’t it?”

“Not really. They’d both see it for what it was—a snub. Arlen and Hank insist on a choice.”

Left unsaid was the fact that whichever choice she made would generate a good deal of revenue for her business, and therefore benefit the family. Marybeth was routing as much as she could into college funds for Sheridan and Lucy, and having either Hank or Arlen on her client list would boost her earnings. Since Joe’s salary was frozen at $32,000 by the state, there was little he could do to contribute to the college funds, which made him feel guilty and ashamed.