Montana Hearts - 1. Chapter 1 - The Call Goes Out

-- Chapter One --

A lot of water had passed under the bridge in the year since the remaining Dutton siblings, Kayce and Beth, turned their backs on Yellowstone and the old Dutton Ranch. They wouldn’t recognise it now . . . there was nothing left to recognise.

When the Lakota Sioux Indian nation regained control, they kept their promise. They dismantled everything, to allow the ranch to return to nature, to return to what it was before the white man came – wilderness – and nature was helping them keep that promise. Gone were the corrals and the barns. The pastures now had saplings shooting where there had been none for more than one hundred years. And the house of logs and stone . . . all that was left were foundations; a reminder of what once was, and what should never have been, at least in the minds of the descendants of current custodians.

There was one thing that remained unchanged, however, and that was the patch of forest where members of the Dutton family lay, their graves marked by weathered stone, entrusted into the care of the tribe, just as the land itself had once been entrusted into the hands of the Dutton family. A wrought iron fence now surrounded the graves, which though now rarely visited, were never forgotten by those who survived the ending of the dynasty.

For some, there was a certain sadness hanging over the valley. For others, there was something else entirely. But for all, the events of the year twenty-twenty four were still as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday.

***

It was just on dark when Kayce Dutton was pulling into the driveway of his new home at East Camp, on the very outer edge of what had once been the Yellowstone Ranch. The lights were on inside the homestead, and he knew that Tate would most likely have something already on for supper. It was just him and Tate now, following the passing of his wife, Monica. He had his job as a Federal Marshall, and Tate was doing well in his final years of school. Life was hard at times, but they were getting by. They were still close to the Yellowstone, and the heart and soul of the mountains still stirred within each of them. This was their home and would always remain so.

When the phone on the dash of his truck rang, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the caller ID. He pressed the connect button even before he had switched off the engine.

‘Hey, Rip. To what do I owe this pleasure?’

‘Hey, Kayce. How’re you and Tate doing at East Camp. Keeping out of trouble, I hope?’

‘No chance of that. Between the poachers and the cattle rustlers around here, and then the drug syndicates who think they don’t know that we know where they are growing stuff in the mountains, there’s never a dull moment around here. How are you and Beth doing?’

‘Oh, you know us. Beth gets us into a whole heap of trouble, then I have to straighten everything out again.’

‘That sounds kind of familiar.’

‘And how is Tate? I know it must be hard for him after Monica . . .’

‘Truth beknown, I think he’s doing better than me,’ Kayce replied, as he looked up at the nearby mountains, the tops of which were still glowing orange, but fading with every passing minute. ‘What about Carter? Beth still mothering him like an old hen?’

Rip could hear by the tone in Kayce’s voice that he was struggling, but he figured he had just the thing that might lift his spirits.

‘You better believe it. Boy will end up as soft as . . .’ he started to say, but then he let that thought drop. ‘Anyhow, there was a reason for the call. I was talking to old Hank Dunbar today.’

‘From the Lazy D?’

‘Yeah. Seems he needs a hand with branding. How would you and Tate feel about doing some cowboy shit?’

‘You won’t have to ask twice, brother. When are we needed?’

‘A week from Monday. We’re figuring on rolling in on the Sunday and setting up camp. We’ll see you there then?’

‘Absolutely! You can count on us! How many others you got coming?’

‘Oh, Lloyd for sure, and maybe Teeter . . . and I’ll see who else I can rustle up,’ Rip replied.

‘It’s starting to sound like a party now. Can’t hardly wait. Chasin’ bad cattle always beats chasing bad guys!’

‘That’s kind of what I thought you might say,’ Rip said, with a laugh. ‘We’ll see you at the Lazy D.’

‘You can count on it!’ Kayce replied, then the phone went black.

He was still smiling as he climbed the steps to the verandah and opened the front door and stepped inside.

‘Cowboy shit, huh? This’ll be good!’

‘What did I just hear you mumbling about?’ Tate asked, as his father entered the kitchen.

Kayce looked at his son and grinned. ‘We got some cowboy shit to do. Rip just called and he wants us to help with the branding at the Lazy D . . . I told him to count us in.’

‘Hell, yeah. How soon?’

‘A week from Monday. Be a good time for you to give that appaloosa filly of yours some real ranch work experience, don’t you think?’

‘Reckon so!’

‘Now, what’s for supper? Something smells good!’ Kayce asked, as he glanced around the kitchen and noticed that Tate had cooked way too much again, as well as setting three places at the table.

He guessed they were both still adjusting to the fact it was only the two of them now.

***

As the Texas night settled, a similar scene was playing out at Rip and Beth’s new ranch, a place they had called home for more than a year now. After disconnecting from his call to Kayce, Rip entered through the mud room and washed up, before heading inside to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the distinct smell of meat cooking.

‘Hey darlin’, what’s cookin’?’ he asked Beth, then chancing a look at the grill he noticed steaks cooking. ‘What, no Hamburger Helper tonight?’

As she spun to face him, with fire in her eyes and a pair of long-handled tongs in her hands, he just grinned at her. Three years of marriage, and however many years they had known each other before that, nothing had ever changed. Each gave as good as they got, but there was love in every movement, every word; even if it was sometimes not entirely obvious to an outsider.

Rip looked across the kitchen bench at Carter, who was helping with salads, and just shook his head.

‘She’s got you preparing salads now?’ he asked.

‘You want supper, don’t you?’ Carter replied, while dicing an onion and then tossing it in with the greens.

Beth had been teaching him well. Possibly too well, Rip thought.

‘Shit!’

Beth looked sharply at her husband, with tongs at the ready, already snapping.

‘And that wisecrack meant what, exactly?’ she asked.

‘Just wondering what you’re trying to turn the boy into, darlin’! That’s all,’ Rip replied, in his usual taunting kind of drawl. ‘I’m trying to turn him into a cowboy, here.’

He grinned at his wife, but when he saw the flash of fire in Beth’s eyes, he immediately knew he’d taken one step too many. He looked at Carter, desperate for something to create a distraction, but all he got there was a grinning face, and a cheeky response.

‘You’re on your own there, Pops!’

Rip quickly realised that he was outnumbered, so he figured a quick change of subject might be in order.

‘Well, maybe some real cowboyin’ might help fix that?’ he offered

‘Some what?’ Beth snapped, as she gave the steaks one final flip.

‘I said, maybe some real cowboyin’ might help,’ Rip answered. ‘I had a call today from old Hank Dunbar, from the Lazy D, back home. You remember him, darlin’?’

‘I remember him,’ Carter interjected, as he set down some bowls of salad on the table. ‘He had that rough country that bordered the national park, to the west of Yellowstone, didn’t he?’

‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Rip replied. Undeterred, he continued, knowing that he already had their attention.

‘Yeah, he’s lookin’ for some help with branding. Things have been tough since his boy was killed in the Middle East and he’s been struggling. Might be their last roundup. Say’s he’s gettin’ too old for this shit. You’ve heard people say that before, right?’

‘So, he called you?’ Beth asked. ‘Does he realise how far away you are from Montana right now?’

‘Yeah, honey. He knows it. But he also knows that Montana is always right here,’ Rip answered, as he thumped his chest, right over his heart, with his fist. ‘So what do you guys say? Fancy a trip back to the mountains to do what we do best?’

‘But what about the ranch . . .’

‘Diaz can handle it,’ Rip answered, referring to their foreman. ‘It’ll only be for ten days or so, including travelling time.’

Sensing a mild thawing in his wife’s demeanour, he sidled up behind her and put arms around her. He knew her too well, there was no way she would say no to this. No way in hell.

‘Ten days, you say?’

‘Give or take,’ Rip answered, while whispering directly into her ear. ‘And I think those steaks are about done!’

***

Over dinner, Rip told them about his discussion with Kayce, as well as his calls to Lloyd and Teeter. He knew that it wouldn’t take much to bring some of the old Yellowstone crew back together to help out an old neighbour, and it was going to be good to see them all.

As her men continued talking, Beth let her thoughts wander back to the mountains. Carter was already excited by the prospect of seeing the mountains again, and she knew that Rip would also be keen, but for Beth the visit would hold greater meaning. It would give her a chance to visit the resting place of her parents, and every other Dutton who had ranched those lands, who had spilled blood on that ranch, and who would stand watch over it forever, no matter what happened to the houses and the barns and the corrals. She’d already heard rumours about what the Native tribe had done, but that didn’t matter – she knew that it had been planned from the moment the ownership had changed – but the gravestones were something else. Beth knew they would stand for all time, to mark the passing of her family, and one day, perhaps, she hoped that she would be permitted to join them.

So much had happened since they had left Yellowstone, both good and bad, yet, despite the challenges they had faced as a family, she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

While letting her mind wander, Beth went quiet, which didn’t go unnoticed by Rip. He didn't ask what was wrong, because Rip usually had a pretty fair idea of where she went in her head.

Rip slid his hand across the table and took her hand in his, and Beth looked at him. There was no need for words between them; there rarely was when it came to things that mattered.

Carter grinned at them, then asked, ‘You gonna eat that?’

Beth looked down at the piece of steak remaining on her plate, then across at him.

‘Touch it and you’ll lose a finger.’

Carter grinned. ‘Just askin'.’

Rip chuckled and went back to his meal.

Looking at Carter, Beth felt a stirring of pride within her. He was no longer the scruffy, neglected boy she had met at the hospital that time. Carter had grown considerably over the past year – not just physically, but also in confidence. He was no longer a kid desperately trying to earn his place in the world. He was a young man, built for this life, and right here, with Beth and Rip, was where he now belonged. He was the son they didn’t have.

‘So, what do you think, baby?’ Beth asked Carter. ‘You up for a visit?’

‘You better believe it,’ he answered. ‘It feels like so much longer than a year since we left.’

Rip simply grinned.

They had a new life, far from Montana. They had money, a ranch, and relative peace, but that didn’t mean they had been able to put the past behind them entirely. There was still a pull, that each of them felt, and the chance of a visit to the mountains was too good a chance to pass up.

Beth pretended she was less excited than both of them. She complained about the likelihood of her freezing her ass off, sleeping in some godforsaken camp, and spending a week surrounded by cowboys. But everyone know she was all bluff and bluster.

Rip pointed out that nobody said she had to come.

‘Well then, it looks like we’re heading home for a visit,’ Beth replied.

***

After dinner, Carter headed outside. There were always horses to check, but it was also just good to get outside and stare up at the stars. He went into the barn and checked that all was well, and that water troughs were filled, then pulled the door shut behind him when he stepped back out into the night.

For a few minutes he leaned against the corral and looked off to the north, to where the mountains of Montana might be visible, if only he wasn’t quite so far away. After a few minutes he heard the sound of boots approaching, then turning his head slightly he noticed Rip emerge from the darkness, before stopping beside him and leaning against the same corral fence.

Nothing was said at first, but eventually Carter spoke. ‘You reckon it'll feel weird? Going back, I mean?’

Rip knew exactly what he had meant. ‘Probably.’

‘You wanna go back?’

‘Hell yes! But just wantin' to go back and wantin' it back ain't the same thing, son.’

‘No, I guess not.’

Rip glanced sideways at him. ‘Besides, ain't nothin' there gonna be the same, or the way any of us remember it.’

Carter nodded. ‘I know.’

‘And neither are you, son. People change. Times change. Places change. That’s just life.’

In the days that followed, Carter’s excitement at the thought of going home only intensified. He knew that it would be different . . . that the old ranch, the old bunkhouse and the corrals, and even the old homestead, would no longer be there, but the pull of that mountain air, the forests, and the crystal-clear streams was strong.

Beth had said something at the dinner table about the scars that the old country had left on them all – enough for several lifetimes – but he didn’t really see it that way. He saw it as the land marking them . . . not as punishment of any kind, but as a reminder, as a mark of ownership – on their hearts, rather than like a physical brand – a permanent reminder of where they had come from. Something they should never forget.

And he let his mind wander to those who had been left behind. He knew that Monica had passed, but that Kayce and Tate were still there. There were rumours about Jamie, which were kind of wild, but after hearing some of the things that Beth had said he had done, Carter hoped that he would never run into him, otherwise he didn’t know what he might do.

Lloyd was still around. Rip had mentioned that he had spent some time on a couple of ranches, and had even led some dude-ranch pack trips into the park. Teeter was somewhere in Texas, but had stayed in touch with Rip. They would know soon enough whether she and Lloyd would be joining their camp.

For some reason his thoughts returned to Kayce and Tate.

Tate was different. Carter wasn't quite sure what to expect there. They'd never exactly been best friends. Hell, for a while Carter hadn't even been sure Tate liked him. They'd been two kids orbiting the same ranch, thrown together because of the people around them rather than because either had chosen the other.

The one recollection he had of spending time with Tate was a day spent at the county fair, where they traded shots at the shooting gallery and shared a few rides. But then life had happened, the ranch was gone, and Carter had gone south with Rip and Beth while Tate had stayed behind with Kayce.

A year wasn't supposed to be a long time. Somehow it felt like one.

He wondered what Tate looked like now. Whether he'd changed as much as Carter thought he had. And whether they'd still have anything to say to each other.

To be continued . . .