The Loop (17 page)

‘You can’t say it wasn’t a wolf, but there’s no sign left that it was. Did anybody look for prints before the ground got all scuffed up like this?’

‘Course I did,’ Clyde said, defensively. He darted a look at his father-in-law. ‘The ground’s too hard. Too much rock and stuff.’

‘Or scat maybe? You know, droppings—’

‘I do know what scat is.’ He gave a little humorless laugh. ‘There wasn’t none of that either.’

Dan said, ‘Maybe, Mr Calder, if you’d called us first, we could have—’

‘Who I choose to call first is my business, Mr Prior,’ Calder snapped. ‘And with all due respect, I reckon Nat Thomas’s opinion is a sight more objective than others’ around here.’

‘What I meant is, I can understand why you might want Nat to come and have a look too, but if—’

‘Oh, you can?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Seems to me you government fellows don’t understand a damn thing. You let these wolves loose, let them kill our pets and now our cattle, and then try and pretend they’re not to blame.’

‘Sir, I—’

‘Don’t make an enemy of me, Prior. It’s not a good idea.’

He looked away, down the valley, and for a long moment, no one spoke. Somewhere way above them in the mountains an eagle called. Calder shook his head and looked at the ground, nudging some sage with his boot. The grasshoppers scattered.

Helen thought it amazing. Here they were, all adults, and he had them hanging on his every word like naughty schoolkids hauled before the principal. But they all went on watching him and waiting for him to speak and at last he seemed to reach some conclusion.

‘Okay,’ he said, and after a moment more looked up at Dan. ‘Okay. You tell me this young lady here is going to be working full-time on this.’ He didn’t grace Helen with his eyes when he said this, just tilted his chin in her direction.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then she’d better do a good job and do it quick. Because I tell you, Mr Prior, if I lose another calf, we may have to do something about it ourselves.’

‘Well, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the law about—’

‘No sir, you sure as hell don’t.’

They were glaring at each other, neither one prepared to be the first to look away. Helen could see Dan was seething. She’d never seen him so angry. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d stepped over the carcass and punched the rancher on the jaw. Then Calder suddenly flashed his white teeth and turned to Helen, clicking on the charm again, as if nothing had happened.

‘So you’ll be living up by Eagle Lake?’

‘Yep. Going up there right now.’

‘It can get kind of lonely up there.’

‘Oh, I’m used to being alone.’

Calder gave her a look that said plainly as any words,
How could that be? Pretty little thing like you
. It was like a lustful uncle putting a hand on your knee.

‘Well, Helen, you must come down to the house and have supper with us some time, tell us how you’re getting along.’

She gave him a blithe smile.

‘Well, thank you,’ she said. ‘That’d be nice.’

11

I
t took Helen the rest of that day and most of the next to unpack her things and get the cabin into some kind of livable condition. And it would have taken longer if Dan hadn’t helped.

Compared with some places she had to stay in, it wasn’t too bad. It was twelve feet square and built of logs, with a screened window in each wall and a roof that would soon need some serious attention. In one corner stood a pot-bellied stove with a top you could cook on. Dan had filled a box beside it with a month’s supply of firewood and given her a chain saw for when it ran out. There was also a Coleman gas stove with two burners.

‘Hey, I can throw dinner parties,’ she said.

‘Yeah, for your new friend Buck Calder.’

‘Please!’

Stacked on rickety shelves beside the stove were assorted cups, bowls and plates, all of them chipped and emblazoned with the Forest Service logo, in case anyone was desperate enough to steal them. Apart from the cobwebbed curtains, which looked as though they might fall apart if you touched them, the only decoration was a laminated map of Hope and some blackened cast-iron pans that hung from nails above the cracked enamel sink. The sink itself was rigged with an elegant pitcher pump and drained into a somewhat less elegant slop pail below.

In the opposite corner were two bunk beds, for the bottom one of which Dan had thoughtfully provided a new mattress, blankets and pillows. The only other pieces of furniture were an old wardrobe and a plain wooden table with two chairs.

Sunk into the planked floor was a trapdoor.

‘What’s down there?’

‘Oh, that goes down to the basement. You know, laundry room, sauna, that kind of thing.’

‘No hot tub?’

‘They’re installing it next week.’

She opened the trapdoor and found a bare, cement-lined root cellar, some three feet square and four feet deep. It was to keep food from freezing in winter and getting too hot in summer.

The one luxury was the neat little Japanese generator that Dan had rigged outside the door so she could recharge her laptop, stereo and the cell phone Dan had supplied her with. In theory, he said, she should be able to hook the phone up to her laptop and get e-mail. The trouble was, cell phones didn’t work too well up here in the mountains; often as not you couldn’t get a signal. The prospect of isolation didn’t bother Helen at all. As backup, Dan was also going to set up a voice-mail number for her.

Around the back of the cabin was a logbuilt outhouse and, beside it, a kind of improvised shower - a metal bucket with holes in the bottom. Birds had been nesting in it, but with a little maintenance Helen would soon have it working.

‘I tried to clear things up a little,’ Dan said.

‘It’s terrific. Thank you.’

‘And whatever your friend Buck Calder says, I can guarantee you’re not going to be lonely.’

‘How do you mean?’

He showed her the mousetraps he’d set behind the stove and under the beds. They were all sprung, bait taken, no mouse.

‘I see you’re still no better at trapping, Prior.’

‘That’s why I took the desk job.’

‘What bait did you use?’

‘Cheese, what else?’

‘Hey, buddy, you know better than to ask a trapper her trade secrets.’

That first night she was too tired to be bothered with trying to catch mice and regretted it almost as soon as she shut her eyes. Buzz spent the whole night scrabbling around for them and made so much noise that in the end she took him out and shut him in the Toyota. Left to their own devices, the mice scuffled in and out of her dreams till daybreak. By the time Dan arrived the next day Helen had set up an elaborate trap which had him in fits.

It was a method Joel had taught her their first year together on the Cape when the ship-house suddenly became the neighborhood refuge for homeless rodents. All you needed was a bucket, a length of wire and a tin can, drilled at both ends. You fed the wire through the holes in the can and rigged it so that it hung across the top of the bucket into which you poured a few inches of water. All that was left to do was prop a stick against the side of the bucket, smear the can with peanut butter, lock the dog away and retire. The mice climbed up the stick, crawled along the wire and when they stepped onto the can it spun and dumped them in the drink.

‘It never fails,’ Helen said.

‘No way.’

‘I’ll bet you dinner on it.’

‘You’re on.’

That night she caught three mice and had them proudly on display when Dan showed up in the afternoon with all the radio collars, trapping gear and some mapping software for her computer. He’d halfheartedly accused her of cheating, but true to his word, after another day getting the cabin straight, took her that same evening to Nelly’s Diner.

Helen was now struggling to finish the biggest steak she had ever laid eyes on. The menu called it a
T.Rex bone
and even that didn’t do it justice.

The diner was wallpapered throughout with huge photo-panoramas of the Rocky Mountains which once must have made the real thing, glimpsed from the small front windows, look like poor imposters. Over the years, however, the colors had grown saturate and dark and the joins had split open with the heat, so that now the landscape seemed to be in shadow, ominously riven with seismic cracks. Against this background of imminent doom, the tables with their paper cloths of red and white check and candles afloat in little red glasses strove bravely to make the place cheerful.

Only two other tables were occupied: one by a family of German tourists whose monster Winnebago was blocking all view from the front windows and the other by two old men in matching white Stetsons, who were arguing about hearing aids.

The only waiter was a friendly giant with blue-tinted aviator glasses and long gray hair tied in a ponytail. From the voice that hectored him from backstage in the kitchen (Nelly’s, perhaps), they gathered his name was Elmer. The tattoos and the black T-shirt with
Bikers for Jesus
emblazoned on the front proclaimed him the owner of the Harley that stood gleaming outside. When Helen and Dan had first walked in, he’d said, ‘Angels on your body.’ It took them a moment to realize it was a greeting. They’d avoided catching each other’s eye until they were safely alone at their table.

Helen pushed her plate away and leaned back.

‘Dan, this steak’s got me beat.’

She wondered if she would lose all credibility with him if she were now to light a cigarette. She decided not to risk it.

They had spent most of the meal reminiscing about the good old days in Minnesota. Helen reminded him of the time his hand had slipped while he was trying to give a trapped wolf a shot of sedative and emptied the syringe into his own thigh instead. He’d gone out like a light. They laughed so much the two little German kids kept turning to stare at them with big blue eyes.

No mention had been made of that one time they had briefly become more than just friends and for this Helen was grateful. The news that Dan was now divorced had bothered her a little. Whether there was anyone new in his life, she didn’t know, but she hoped so.

Dan couldn’t finish his steak either. He took a drink of beer and sat back, silent for a moment, smiling at her.

‘What are you grinning at?’ she said.

‘Oh, I was just thinking.’

‘What?’

‘Just that it’s good to have you out here.’

‘Hey, I’ll go anywhere for a free dinner.’

She could tell from the way he was looking at her that there was more to it than that. She hoped he wasn’t going to voice it and spoil things.

‘You know, Helen, after Mary and I broke up, I nearly called you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. I thought about you a lot. And how, you know, that summer, if I hadn’t been—’

‘Dan, come on.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry.’

She reached across the table and took his hand and smiled at him. He was such a sweet guy.

‘We’re friends,’ she said softly. ‘And that’s really how it always was.’

‘I guess.’

‘And, right now, I really need a friend more than, well, more than anything else.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Say that once more and I won’t ever share my mouse-trapping secrets with you again.’

He laughed and let go of her hand. Elmer loomed to the rescue and asked them if they were done with their steaks and did they want cream pie or death by chocolate? They settled for coffee.

‘You’re the new wolf lady, huh?’ he said when he came back to pour it.

‘That’s me. How did you know?’

He shrugged. ‘Whole town knows.’

 

Buck took another good look in his rearview mirror and then checked up ahead again to make sure the road was clear both ways. If he ever saw another car when he reached her driveway, he would just keep on up the road.

It was real handy, her living out here on the edge of town where there were no snoopy neighbors and he could park his car around the back where it couldn’t be seen from the road. It was certainly a whole lot better than doing it in some seedy motel on the interstate or up in the forest, bare-assed to the elements, or in the back of a truck in winter, which was all fine and dandy when you were young with the sap rising so fast it was a job keeping the lid on it. But as a man got older, love, like most things, required a little comfort.

Some time ago they had worked out a system. If she closed the curtains in the little window nearest the road, it meant she had company and he should drive on by. He was glad to see that tonight they were open. He could see a light on inside and imagined her in there, showered and smelling all fresh and ready for him. The thought made his pants tighten a little at the crotch.

Buck never had trouble finding an excuse to be away from home. There was always a meeting to attend or neighbor to visit or a deal to do in town. On those rare occasions when things got tricky, there were always friends he could count on for cover. Tonight he was supposed to be - and indeed had been, for awhile anyhow - at a stockgrowers’ meeting in Helena. Mostly, he didn’t even have to lie because Eleanor never asked where he was going or how late he would be and she was always in bed asleep when he got home.

The road was clear and he swung the car into the driveway and parked behind the old station wagon. The door to the house opened as he was getting out and he saw her in her black bathrobe lean her shoulder against the door frame, smiling that knowing smile of hers and waiting for him. She watched him walk toward her, neither one of them saying a word, and when he reached her, he slipped his hands inside her robe and held her by her naked hips while he kissed her neck.

‘Ruth Michaels,’ he said. ‘You’re the sexiest goddamn woman this side of the Missouri River.’