“I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job,” Calhoun said. “I’m just giving you the benefit of the evidence I have.”
“Yes, well, remember, you did run for sheriff against me in the last election, didn’t you?” Belmond said. “And how did that turn out now? Oh, right, I won, didn’t I?”
“Let me put it this way, Belmond. If I learn that you are purposely covering up for the Clintons, I will go to the governor.”
“I’ll do my job,” Belmond said. “You just stay the hell out of my way.”
When Billy Clinton rode off, he told his father that he was going to look for strays. Once he got out of sight of the main house, though, he cut across Vachille Creek toward the McKenzie Ranch. Emma McKenzie was a widow, and though she still lived there, she made her living by leasing her grazing and water rights to other ranchers.
Emma had been very good friends with Billy’s mother when she was alive, and had often taken care of him when he was younger. Billy called her Aunt Emma, even though she was not related to him.
It was not unusual for Billy to call on Emma from time to time, but today was a little unusual because he and Kathleen had made arrangements to meet there. Emma knew and liked them both, and was the only person in the county who could understand the attraction these two star-crossed people had for each other.
Billy was a little nervous as he rode toward Aunt Emma’s place because this was the first meeting that he and Kathleen had ever arranged. He didn’t know if she would actually show up or not. As he approached, he looked around the place for any sign of Kathleen, but saw nothing. Did she not come?
Emma stepped out on the front porch to greet him as he arrived.
“Hello, Billy.” she said.
“Aunt Emma,” Billy replied. He continued to look around for any sign of Kathleen.
Emma laughed. “Don’t get yourself all worried. She’s inside,” Emma said. “She’s making lemonade.”
“Oh,” Billy replied. “I, uh, didn’t see her horse or anything, I was wondering.”
“We put her surrey in the barn,” Emma said. “If someone rode by and saw your horse here, why, they wouldn’t think anything of it. You are here often. But this is the first time Kathleen has ever been here, and if someone happened to see her surrey and your horse, well, you can see what problems that might cause.”
“Yes, ma’am, I truly can,” Billy said. “Aunt Emma, I appreciate this, I hope you don’t get into any trouble over it.”
“Don’t be silly,” Emma said. “I’m an old widow woman who lives alone. I have every right to have anyone I want as friends.”
Emma brushed her hands against her apron. There was about her the smell of flour and cinnamon, as she had been baking in the kitchen, and for a sudden, brief moment, he remembered the days he had spent with her when he was a little boy.
“Heavens, I didn’t even bother to take off my apron,” Emma said self-consciously. “I thought I would make some cookies for you and your friend. I must look a mess.”
“You look beautiful to me, Aunt Emma,” Billy said. “But you always have.”
Kathleen came outside then, and she smiled at Billy.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi,” Billy replied.
“Oh,” Emma said just before she went back inside the house. “I made a picnic lunch for you. Billy, I thought your friend might like to see the overlook.”
“The overlook?” Kathleen asked.
“It’s our secret place,” Emma said. “Billy’s and mine.”
“Oh, my, should I be jealous?” Kathleen teased.
“No. Aunt Emma, I mean, Mrs. McKenzie, she…” Billy said, attempting to explain.
Kathleen laughed. “You don’t have to explain,” she said. “I know Mrs. McKenzie raised you. She told me all about it this morning. I was just teasing. And I would love to see the overlook.”
With the picnic lunch loaded in Kathleen’s surrey, Billy drove along a trail until he reached a high escarpment. The trail climbed a large rock outcropping, then went beyond a group of aspen trees until Billy finally stopped near an overhang. He helped Kathleen down from the surrey.
“I call this my secret place,” Billy said, “but there are markings and signs here from who knows who or how long ago. See?”
“Pictographs,” Kathleen said.
“What?”
“They are called pictographs,” Kathleen explained. “Some think drawings and carvings on rocks like this may be over a thousand years old.”
Billy laughed.
“What is it?”
“I guess that means I wasn’t the first to discover this place then, huh?”
Kathleen laughed with him.
“I wish you could be up here at twilight sometime,” Billy said. “It’s very pretty when the clouds are lit from below by the setting sun so that they glow pink and gold against the purple sky. It’s especially beautiful in the spring, with the flower carpeting the valley floor in every hue. It’s even beautiful at night when the stars sparkle
