Free A Father's Stake by Mary Anne Wilson

when we respect the fact that they were here first.”
    “That’s baloney. Do you have some philosophical discussion with a mountain lion when it attacks you?”
    The smile stayed. “Not usually. That’s when I use the shooting skills I was taught as a kid by my grandpa.” The smile changed just a bit, his expression wistful. “He knew everything there was to know about coexistence and taught me and my brothers what we needed to know to survive in one piece.”
    “Good, good,” she muttered, about to ask if they could go back right then.
    “Now, come on. We’re safe, and if anything comes up that isn’t expected, believe me, it won’t surprise me and I’ll deal with it.” When she didn’t move, he said, “We only have a short distance to go.”
    She had made it this far, she thought. Might as well go a bit farther. Then she’d get back to the house, go into town and get the boots. A gun was out of the question. She hated guns, but maybe a heavy stick to carry when she was out walking. “Okay,” she said, and he took off.
    “Used to come this way to go hunting with my brothers. This was a shortcut. We discovered it one day, and we made up stories about the Indians going this way, that they dug it just so they could move unseen. Of course, Grandpa explained about erosion and water eating at the earth.”
    “But your idea was more fun, wasn’t it?” she asked.
    “It sure was.” He sounded a bit wistful again as he walked ahead of her.
    “What did you hunt?”
    “Everything,” he said over his shoulder. “Rabbits, squirrels, some birds. Bigger game depending on the season. The only rule was we had to eat what we killed.”
    The idea of killing anything was hard for her to deal with, but to clean it and cook it afterward—that made her queasy. “That’s co-existence?”
    “Yes, you only take what you need to sustain yourself or your family,” he said. “My grandpa was firm on that. Willie G., he’s the same. He’s a huge protector of the land. We’re just caretakers, and both men always said, ‘They aren’t making any more of it. What’s here is all there is ever going to be’ and they were right.”
    His words made her feel this place was even more special. It had been cared for and nurtured for years by the Wolf family, and maybe now it was her family’s turn to look after it.
    He rounded a corner, and the path climbed slightly upward. A few moments later, she and Jack stepped into brilliant sunshine at the mouth of a gully. The trees were farther back now, mostly to their rear, and the sight in front of her was nothing short of spectacular.
    They had come out on a rise, overlooking a ranch so beautiful it was hard to believe it was real. Pasture after green pasture, white rail fencing crisscrossing the landscape. Cattle roamed in the distance, horses beyond them, and past that, she could make out a sprawling two-story ranch house that looked as if it was molded to the land it sat on, the turquoise sky a dazzling backdrop.
    “Wow,” she whispered.
    “That’s my parents’ ranch, Carson Acres. They built on the land Grandpa passed on to them when they got married.”
    Grace shaded her eyes from the bright sunlight, drinking in the vision. “How far does it go?”
    “You’re on the boundary between the two places, and their land reaches the foothills to the north and west.” He motioned to the mountains where he’d pointed out the Reservation before. “Just below the Rez, butted up against it.” She could feel him watching her. “So, what do you think about all of this?”
    Grace looked up at Jack, knowing a smile was curving her lips. “It’s incredible, so vast and overwhelming.”
    “Yes, it is. And it’s a lot of work and expense to keep it going, too. I’d hate to tell you what it costs per month to keep that place working. And that wouldn’t include new livestock for replacements or the payroll that fluctuates depending on the season. We have five wells going all