LITMIR.BIZ

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yer old man was a Mormon Bishop.”

      “Whether we are or not, is no business of yours,” Ruby cut in fiercely.

      “Bucky, I’ve never claimed to be like my father.”

      “Youse absolutely right,” Lee smirked, “and youse certainly ain’t. He was a real cowman. Here, try some of this, Rube.” He offered her the paper plate. “Use your fingers—I ain’t washin’ no dishes.”

      Not waiting to be invited, Roper plucked a hot patty out of the frying pan then quickly tossed it from one hand to another while it cooled. Gingerly, he took a bite. “Hot!” he wheezed, hurriedly sucking in cold air. After a moment he continued, “you know the one I feel sorry for is Angus Macdonald.”

      “You mean that stumpy Englishman?” Bucky asked as he wolfed down a sausage.

      “With a name like that,” Roper scoffed. “No, not English, Scottish. He’s about as English as haggis.”

      “What’s the difference?” Bucky asked. “Either way he’s a limey.”

      “Scotland was settled by the Picts and the Scotti in the north and Angles and Britons in the south,” Roper answered matter-of-factly. “England, on the other hand, was settled by various invaders including the Kelts, Romans, Angles, Saxons and the Normans. That’s the difference between them, that and about a thousand years of war.”

      “Jesus, college-boy, that’s a hell-uv-a-lot more than I wanted to know,” Bucky growled.

      “I was just trying to explain.”

      “It don’t do no good showin’ off heer. Nobody’s impressed,” Bucky said sourly, “an if’n youse was so good at college, why din’t you stay?”

      “No good jobs for English history/literature majors,” Roper said, staring down at his now leathery hands and again massaging the finger stub. Certainly, they were not the hands of an English history professor. “And I couldn’t stand being cooped up.”

      “Well anyway, what about Angus?” Ruby interrupted. Suddenly, she seemed interested.

      “Din’t you date him for a while?” Bucky asked

      “It was nothing,” Ruby declared. “Just sat with him a couple times at the bar.”

      “That’s not what I heer’d,” Bucky said. “I heer’d he was sweet on ya and still is, and youse just up and dumped him.”

      “No,” Ruby protested, shaking her head, “we were always just friends.”

      “They’se say he had it bad.” Bucky turned off the gas on the stove. “They’se say he used to follow youse everywhere. A regular midnight stalker.”

      “No,” Ruby insisted again, firmly. “We were then and still are, just friends.”

      “Well it don’t matter. What about Macdonald, anyway?” Bucky Lee asked Roper. “What’s he got to do with this heer daisy-pickin’ liberal’s folly?”

      “He owns Highland Mining and Mineral. They’re just a small outfit, not like PacifiCorp or Andalex. Really don’t think he has other assets other than his Kaiparowits coal leases.”

      “Well then he’s just plain dead in the water,” Lee said flatly.

      “I suppose, like a canoe without a paddle,” Ruby said sarcastically.

      “No, more like a mallard swimmin’ next to an aviary,” Bucky said.

      “It’s not just us and Angus goin’ to be affected,” Roper continued. “What about loggers, hunting guides and prospectors? All of them will be affected.”

      “Your president made it clear there would be no minin’, prospectin’ or loggin’,” Lee said. “An who knows for sure bout huntin’. What a prick!”

      “I didn’t vote for him,” Roper asserted. “But I do feel bad for Angus. He’s a nice guy.”

      Stone-faced, Ruby concentrated on her sausage and didn’t comment.

      “Nice guys always get the shaft,” Lee said, his face immobile. “That’s why I’se constantly worried about myself.”

      “Yeah, I worry about that too,” Roper said dryly.

      “What’ll he do?” Ruby ignored Lee, as she gingerly forked another patty.

      “I suspect he’ll have to move, or find another way to make a living,” Roper answered, shaking his head. “Maybe I’ll teach him to cowboy.”

      “Like I said, somebody ought’a shoot that sum-bitch.”

      “Who—Angus?” Ruby asked.

      “No, pay attention. The Pres.”

      “I hope you’re kidding,” Roper said, standing, looking for something on which to wipe his greasy hands. Finding nothing he used rumpled newspaper stacked on the edge of the filthy Formica counter.

      “I never joke about my’s good ideas.”

      “Guess that means you never joke,” Roper said grinning.

      “You’d never get within a hundred miles of him,” Ruby asserted. “Maybe you could kill him with voodoo or telepathy. Or your stupid parables.”

      “Killin’ his representatives would be like killin’ him—”

      “—Jeez,” Roper cut in. “Let’s change the subject. You’re starting to spook me.”

      Ruby stood up and tossed her empty plate into the already full wastebasket. They all watched as it bounced off the heap, then glided to the floor.

      “Bucky,” Ruby groaned. “Why don’t you clean up this dump?”

      “Why?” Lee shrugged as he dumped the grease from the frying pan into an empty Pork-and-Beans can, then he tossed the frying pan back into the cluttered sink. “You want to take some home? Custom sausage is hard to find. ‘Specially this good stuff—five bucks a pound.”

      “Processing fee?” Roper asked sarcastically.

      “I’ll take a couple pounds,” Ruby said, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. She glanced over at Roper and shrugged. “Well, I’m getting damn tired of hamburger with my eggs.”

      “Oh, what the heck,” Roper sighed. “Give me a couple of pounds too.”

      Dividing the sausage into roughly two portions, Bucky Lee wrapped each with wax paper then he snatched the faded newspaper from the counter and double-wrapped, taping both bundles securely with duct-tape.

      While watching Bucky, Ruby struggled to retie her hair. Giving up, she stuffed the red bandana into her Levi’s pocket and replaced the black Stetson over her tousled head. Mesmerized, Roper watched these antics out of the corner of his eye.

      “Doug, you still planning on helping me with my brandin’ day after tomorrow?” she asked, heading for the door.

      “If’n they’se not branded by the time they’se six months, they becomes property of the county,” Bucky said.

      “Really?” Roper said sarcastically.

      “Anyway, they’re not six months yet,” Ruby said. “And nobody enforces that law. How can they, it’s Fifty Mile Mountain.”

      “Like I said, I’ve got to move my cows to my Tank pasture that morning. Can we get yours done in the afternoon?”

      “Only got about twenty head, but at four to five months, it’ll be a rodeo,” Ruby smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a hand moving your cows, if you’ll help me in the afternoon.”

      “Deal.” Roper grinned.

      As

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