tell him, or he’ll have
Joe knew how state government worked. This wasn’t how.
“Without portfolio,” Joe said, repeating the phrases. “
“Now you’re getting it,” the governor said, encouraging Joe. “And that means if you screw up and get yourself in trouble, as you are fully capable of doing based on your history, I’ll deny to my grave this meeting took place.”
Chuck Ward broke in. “Governor, I feel it’s my responsibility,once again, to advise against this.”
“Your opinion, Chuck, would be noted in the minutes if we had any, but we don’t,” Rulon said in a tone that suggested to Joe that the two of them had similar disagreements as a matter of routine.
The governor turned back to Joe. “You’re going to ask me why, and why you, when I have a whole government full of bodies to choose from.”
“I was going to ask you that.”
“All I can say is that it’s a hunch. But I’m known for my good hunches. I’ve followed your career, Joe, even before I got elected. You seem to have a natural inclination to get yourself square into the middle of situations a normal thinking person would avoid. I’d say it’s a gift if it wasn’t so damned dangerous at times. Your wife would probably concur.”
Joe nodded in silent agreement.
“I think you’ve got integrity. You showed me that when you said you’d arrest me. You seem to be able to think for yourself-a rare trait, and one that I share-no matter what the policy is or conventional wisdom dictates. As I know, that’s eithera good quality or a fatal flaw. It got me elected governor of this great state, and it got you fired.
“But you have a way of getting to the bottom of things, is what I see. Just ask the Scarlett brothers.” He raised his eyebrowsand said, “No, don’t.
Joe felt like he’d been slapped. He’d been there when the brothers turned against each other and went to war. And he’d performed an act that was the source of such black shame in him he still couldn’t think about it. In his mind, the months of feeding cattle, fixing fences, and overseeing Bud Jr. weren’t even close to penance for what he’d done. And it had nothing to do with why he’d been fired.
“When I think of crime committed out-of-doors, I think of Joe Pickett,” Rulon said. “Simple as that.”
Joe’s face felt hot. Everything the governor said seemed to have dual meanings. He couldn’t be sure if he was being praised or accused, or both.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Rulon smiled knowingly. “Yes you do. You want to say YES! You want to shout it out!” He leaned back in his chair and dropped his voice an octave. “But you need to talk to Marybeth. And Bud Longbrake needs to hire a new ranch foreman.”
“I do need to talk to Marybeth,” Joe said lamely.
“Of course. But let me know by tonight so we can notify Mr. Pope and get this show on the road. Take the file, read it. Then call with your acceptance.”
Ward tapped his wrist. “Governor. .”
“I know,” Rulon said, standing and shoving papers into his briefcase. “I know.”
Joe used the arms of his chair to push himself to his feet. His legs were shaky.
“Tell the pilot we’re ready,” Rulon said to Ward. “We need to get going.”
Ward hustled out of the room, followed by Governor Rulon.
“Governor,” Joe called after him. Rulon hesitated at the doorway.
“I may need some help in the park,” Joe said, thinking of Nate Romanowski.
“Do what you need to do,” Rulon said sharply. “Don’t ask me for permission. You’re not working for me. I can’t even rememberwho you are. You’re fading from my mind even as we speak. How can I possibly keep track of every state employee?”
Outside, the engines of the plane began to wind up.
“Call me,” the governor said.
Joe’s head was still spinning from the meeting as he wheeled the Ford into the turn-in at Saddlestring Elementary. Lucy was standing outside with her books clutched to her chest in the midst of a gaggle of fourth-grade girls who were talking to one another with great arm-waving exuberance. When all the girls turned their faces to him and watched him pull up to the curb, he knew something was up. Lucy waved good-bye to her friends-Lucy was a popular girl-and climbed in. As always, Lucy looked as fresh and attractive as she had at breakfast.
“Sheridan’s in big trouble,” Lucy said. “She got a detention, so we’ll have to wait for her.”
“What do you mean, big trouble?” Joe asked sharply. He wished Lucy hadn’t told him her news with such obvious glee. He continued to drive the four blocks to the high school, where Sheridan had just started the month before.
“Some boy said something at lunch and Sherry decked him,” Lucy said. “Knocked him right down to the floor, is what I heard.”
“That doesn’t sound like Sheridan,” Joe said.
“It would if you knew her better.” Lucy smiled. “She’s a hot-headwhen it comes to her family.”
Joe pulled over to the curb and turned to Lucy, realizing he had misread his youngest daughter. She was proud of her sister, not happy with the fact that she was in trouble. “What exactly are you telling me?”
“Everybody’s talking about it,” Lucy said. “Some boy made a crack about you in the lunchroom, and Sheridan decked him.”
“About me?”
Lucy nodded. “He said something about you not being the game warden anymore, that you got fired.”
“Who was the boy?”
“Jason Kiner.”
That stung. Jason was Phil Kiner’s son. Kiner was the game warden who had been assigned Joe’s district by Randy Pope. Joe had always liked Phil, but was disturbed that Kiner never called him for background or advice since assuming the post and moving his family into Joe’s old house near Wolf Mountain.Joe assumed Pope had told Phil to steer clear of the former inhabitant.
“And Sheridan hit him?”
Lucy nodded eagerly, watching him closely for his reaction.
Joe took a deep breath and shook his head sadly, thinking it was what he should do as a father when he really wanted to say,
Joe and lucy waited a half-hour in front of the high school for Sheridan to be released. Lucy worked on homework assignedby her teacher, Mrs. Hanson, and Joe thought about how he would present the opportunity the governor had given him to Marybeth. He had mixed feelings about it, even though Rulon had been right that Joe’s first reaction had been to yell
“Mrs. Hanson says Americans use up most of the world’s energy,” Lucy said. “She says we’re selfish and we need to learn how to conserve so we can help save our planet.”
“Oh?” Joe said. Lucy loved her teacher, a bright-eyed young woman just two years out of college. Joe and Marybeth had met Mrs. Hanson during back-to-school night and had been duly impressed and practically bowled over by her obvious enthusiasmfor her job and her passion for teaching. Since Lucy’s third-grade teacher had been a weary, bitter twenty-four-year warhorse in the system who was counting the days until her retirement,Mrs. Hanson was a breath of fresh mountain air. Over the past month, Lucy had participated in a canned-food drive for the disadvantaged in the county and on the reservation, and a candy sale with profits dedicated to Amazon rain forest restoration. Lucy couldn’t wait to go to school in the morning, and seemed to start most sentences with, “Mrs. Hanson says. .”
“Mrs. Hanson says we should stop driving gas-guzzling cars and turn the heat down in our houses.”
“Gas-guzzling cars like this?” Joe asked, patting the dashboard.
“Yes. Mrs. Hanson drives one of those good cars.”
“Do you mean a hybrid?”
“Yes. And Mr. and Mrs. Hanson recycle everything. They have boxes for glass, paper, and metal. Mrs. Hanson
