Nothing but Trouble_ A Kevin Kerney Novel - Michael Mcgarrity [47]
As he left the backyard, he dialed Brenda’s number on his cell phone. Maybe if he told her his father had Alzheimer’s, that would do the trick.
After lunch the team drove in a convoy on a ranch road that wound toward the mountains in the direction of the Shugart cabin, where, according to the location schedule, filming of the roundup and cattle drive would take place. Julia, who had invited herself along, positioned herself between Kerney and Susan Berman in the backseat of their vehicle. During the drive she kept her leg pressed against Kerney’s while ignoring him and making small talk with Berman.
Over the course of the morning there had not been a lot for Kerney to do, other than watch Usher and his people in action. Johnny, who was riding in the lead car, had made himself scarce after leaving Joe and Bessie’s house, walking back and forth in front of the barn, energetically talking to someone on his cell phone.
After a bumpy thirty-minute drive the caravan arrived at the Shugart cabin, which turned out to be a partially collapsed line shanty marked by two old cottonwood trees that had died from lack of water. Behind the cabin stood a windmill missing half a dozen blades. Sagging chicken wire hung on listing fence posts enclosed the site.
About a quarter mile west, in a holding pasture of untrammeled grassland intermixed with clumps of blue-green sage, a small group of men were building a corral out of railroad ties, wire, and large poles. They were using a backhoe with a front-end bucket to dig the post holes and set the heavy crossrails.
The pasture rose to meet a rocky, vertical cliff face in the mountains that was broken by a sheer, narrow gap. Here and there on a jumble of outcroppings, an occasional juniper had gained a foothold, showing up dark green against gray stone etched with thin, pale-pink fissures.
Usher assembled his crew in front of the cabin and immediately got down to business. Johnny, who now seemed fully reengaged in the process, eagerly joined into the discussion of how best to film the opening sequence of the cattle roundup.
Kerney left the group and walked across the pasture toward the men who were building the corral. He was halfway there when Julia caught up to him, obviously unfazed by his earlier rejection. Kerney wasn’t sure what to expect from her. Would she be congenial or continue her seductive ways?
The day had heated up, and a fierce afternoon sun washed away the color of the grassland that waved gently in an intermittent breeze. High overhead a prairie falcon glided toward an inaccessible cliff shelf in the mountains, where some blackbirds set up an outcry and scattered into the sky.
“This is one of Daddy’s grass-bank pastures,” Julia said, as she matched Kerney stride for stride. “He burned two thousand acres three years ago, and it hasn’t been grazed on since.”
“It looks good,” Kerney said, his eyes fixed on the vehicles parked near the work site. A panel van, very much like the one that had passed him on the highway, stood out among the pickup trucks. In such a sparsely populated area, where most folks drove pickup trucks, he wondered what the probability of spotting another panel van might be. Perhaps not entirely unlikely, but certainly interesting nonetheless.
At the corral Julia introduced him to Walt Shaw, the ranch manager. Under his cowboy hat Shaw had the face of a man who’d called the open range his office for a lifetime. Probably in his late forties, he had a wide mouth, a long, broad nose, and a blunt chin.
Over the noise of the backhoe he greeted Julia warmly, pulled off his work gloves, shook Kerney’s hand, and smiled, showing a gap between his two front teeth.
“Where’s my father?” Julia asked.
“Took off some time ago,” Shaw replied.
“We didn’t pass him on the road,” Kerney said.
“Didn’t go that way,” Shaw said, nodding in the opposite direction. “He’s two pastures south, where we’re gathering the cattle.”
“Are you building the horse corral for the movie?” Kerney asked.
“Yep, but we get to keep it after you folks are long gone,” Shaw