Authors: Alan Evans
Hopefully, when the time came, Tigee would be able
to give him a trustworthy guide who would not stir up trouble. Shane understood
the tensions the Indians were feeling. They were ready to fight for their
sacred horses that were such a valued part of their heritage. If his suspicions
fell into the wrong hands, someone could get hurt or even killed, and Shane
didn’t want that on his conscience. His intuition told him the shooters would
lie low for a few days. After all, it would be stupid to try this again too
soon. They would more likely let things cool down before putting together
another large-scale hunt. Hopefully, this would give Shane time to figure out
what to do next.
Shane overslept the next morning and had to rush to get to the barn at
eight. Tommy had already fed and turned the horses out of their stalls for the
day. It was a cloudy, windy morning and all the horses were a little frisky
because of the threatening storms. By now Tommy was doing most of the hands-on
training with the roan gelding, so Shane usually just gave the boy instructions
while he sat on the fence. With Shane’s help, the roan was trying harder every
day to please the kid.
Shane told Tommy, “We’ve got the basic steering and
buttons on him now, so you should have enough control to stay out of
trouble on the trails. I’ll ride along this morning to make sure you’re okay
with him.” Shane quickly saddled Sloppy. She hadn’t been
ridden for a few days so the exercise would be good for her.
An hour later the two were back at the ranch, and
Shane was pleased with the session.
“Don’t expect too much too soon. It’ll take a lot of
time and miles to really get him broke. Now, let’s get out your mare and see
how she’s feeling today.” Shane’s mind was not entirely on working with the
horses. As soon as he finished with Tommy, he planned to get in touch with Mr.
Jensen and try to come up with a plan to investigate their theory.
Shane spent an hour working with the mare. She was
coming along slow but sure. The more he worked with this one, the more he
realized how potentially dangerous she could be. So, he advised Tommy, “I’ll do
all the work with this mare until we get her further along. I want you to
promise me that you won’t try to work with her on your own.”
“Yes, sir, I promise.”
“Now, go put her away, and saddle up the last horse.
I’ll get you going with him, and then I have to leave.”
Tommy was already complaining about beginning school
in a few weeks. Once it started, Shane would have to help him with the horses
in the afternoon. He told Tommy he needed to try his best in school, and he
would only help him if he kept his grades up. This reminded him of his son,
Jacob, who would much rather stay home and help him at the barn than be in
class. “Horse training is a business,” he would tell Jacob. “To succeed in any
business, you must be educated. The people who make it in this world, whether
working with rockets or horses, are the ones who tried their hardest in
school.” Shane felt a little melancholy as he told Tommy the same thing.
After getting Tommy started with his last horse,
Shane headed straight for his truck. The two wolves were lying on the porch
after their morning’s hunt. They both perked up and watched as Shane drove out
of the compound gate. His original plan was to go to the pay phone and call Mr.
Jensen, but then he decided to drive over to the farm so he could talk to him
in person. His growing concerns about the mustangs had him hoping they were
wrong about the oil. One way or another, he needed to find out for sure.
When he pulled into the farm, Mr. Jensen’s truck was
not there. Mrs. Jensen was excited to see Shane. She invited him in and, as
usual, offered to fix him something to eat.
“No thank you, ma’am. Do you know when your husband
will be home?”
“He should be back anytime. I don’t know what you
guys are up to, but he sure wanted to talk to you. When I asked him what was
going on, he said he would tell me about it later, so I left it alone. He’ll be
glad you’re here though. He mentioned he might drive
out to the reservation this afternoon to see you. This will save him the trip.”
Mrs. Jensen was in a talkative mood, so Shane sat
and listened. “That Indian friend of yours is an interesting character. He told
me his family had lived on that land for hundreds of years.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ve never seen people who were so
connected to the land and their heritage. I think if they had a choice, they
would turn back the hands of time and live off the land the way their ancestors
did.”
She smiled and nodded her head. “It is refreshing to
see people whose priorities aren’t so wrapped up around progress and the
almighty dollar. You have to admire that.”
“Yes, I do,” Shane answered. “Before I came out
here, I didn’t know the Wind River Basin existed. I have to admit, the awesome
beauty of this country and its history have affected me in a big way. I just
hope they can continue to hold on to all that wilderness and keep it from ever
changing.”
Mrs. Jensen agreed and switched the subject. “That
Tara sure is a pretty girl. Where did she get those blue eyes?”
“She told me her great-great-great-grandmother was
white. One of her brothers has the same blue eyes, but believe me, everything
else about their family is definitely Shoshone.”
“You know, Shane, I think she may have an eye for
you.”
Shane became a little embarrassed at hearing this.
“I think your imagination is getting the best of you, ma’am. I don’t know what
she would see in me.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I remember a lot of
ladies at your clinics being pretty smitten!”
Shane was trying to figure a way out of this
conversation without being disrespectful to the nice old lady. Just then Mr.
Jensen walked in remarking, “Woman, why do you always try to play the
matchmaker? Shane’s a grown man. He doesn’t need you meddling in his personal
affairs.” Mrs. Jensen just laughed and walked into the kitchen.
Chapter 16
Mr. Jensen hung his hat on the coatrack, “It started out stormy this
morning, but it seems to be clearing. I’m glad you’re here, I was planning on
coming to see you today.”
“That’s what your wife said. Before you go on, let
me tell you what’s happened in the valley.” Shane told him about the shooting
of the horses and the tension building with the Indians. “I’ve kept quiet about
our suspicions. Telling them now about our theory, would be like pouring fuel
on a hot fire.”
“Well, son, I haven’t seen any strangers around
town. No oil company trucks or crews, either. I was beginning to think we were
wrong, then I decided to drive out to the old mountainside motel just outside
of town. There’s a little coffee shop there, so I went in and sat down. This
was about seven o’clock Saturday morning. The restaurant was pretty busy with
their breakfast crowd so it was easy for me to blend in. From where I sat, I
had a good view of the motel, and I was surprised to see Vince Nethers drive
into the parking lot, then go up to one of the rooms. He had his son with him.
A few minutes later, I saw two Indians show up and go to the same room. They
knocked on the door and went inside.”
“Indians? Were they Shoshone?”
“I don’t think so. They were driving a pickup with
one of those magnets on the side that people use for advertising. The sign read
Hunter Guide Services, Arapaho, Wyoming
.
That town is
located on the southeast part of the reservation. From what I hear, those two
tribes get along fine these days, but they still live within their own
communities. I don’t think there are many Shoshones
living there.
“The group stayed in the room for quite some time.
When they did finally come out, there were three more white men with them. I
guess these guys were already there waiting for Nethers and the rest to arrive.
“Those three men came out last. I watched as they
walked behind the building and disappeared for a minute. Then I saw them drive
back around in a pickup truck. The truck had a sign that read
In-Core Oil Corp.
“Now, it sure looks to me like Vince Nethers is
going out of his way to keep a low profile�—�especially if all
he’s trying to do is look for oil on his own land. And an even bigger question
is why is he talking to an Arapaho guide service?”
“I don’t know,” Shane said. “It’s looking more like
we might be right. But, we still need some proof before I stir up a whole lot
of trouble by telling the Shoshone. If I could see them actually testing on
reservation land, then we could be sure.”
“Well,” Mr. Jensen said, “you’ve got the best guides
in the world living around you. Are there any Shoshone you can count on to keep
this under their hat until you have your proof?”
Shane thought for a moment as Mrs. Jensen walked
into the room with a glass of tea for her husband. “I know Tara and her
grandfather are worried about someone getting hurt over all this, but the young
men are just brewing for a fight. I’ll probably have to talk to Tigee. Maybe he
can set me up with a guide and get me back in where I can watch the oil
people.” Shane said his good-byes, and drove back to the reservation,
reflecting on what he’d just learned.
Vince Nethers was a very wealthy person with strong
political connections, just as Mr. Jensen had told Shane. Money and power were
his driving force in life. The man built an empire through real estate and
cattle deals, and had no regrets about the people he ruined along the way. If
Mr. Jensen’s theory was right about oil, then this could mean there’s a lot
more trouble to come.
***
Three days later a Cessna plane touched down at Vince Nethers’s private
airstrip on his ranch about twenty miles north of the reservation. The Cessna
taxied up the grass runway to the three-plane hangar. The doors opened, then
two casually dressed men with briefcases in hand stepped down out of the plane.
Both of them had the smell of hard liquor on their breath.
One of the men was Barry Russell, the CEO of a
small, struggling corporation called In-Core Oil. They specialized in
exploration and drilling of oil deposits all over the Midwest. The company was
looking for the one great deal that could put them on the map. This was a very
competitive business, and Vince knew they would be willing to push the limits
of the law.
The other man was John Rasolli, a mob-connected
business man from Chicago with unlimited resources. Vince needed this guy’s
money to get things started. John had been very successful and currently had
his hand in a number of legitimate businesses, most of which had been acquired
through illegal practices. He would force a buyout of small, high potential
companies at less than market value and then sell them for a large profit. If
needed, he would know how to put the squeeze on the Shoshone financially and otherwise.
Vince’s son, Bo, was waiting at the hangar in his
Jeep to pick up the two men. Bo greeted them with a handshake. “Mr. Russell,
Mr. Rasolli, my father is waiting at the house. He is looking forward to
meeting with you.” Both men nodded and climbed into the Jeep for the mile ride
to the mansion.
When they arrived, a pretty young maid, wearing a
short black dress, greeted them at the front door and directed them into the
study. Vince was finishing up a call and he motioned for the men to have a seat.
He then gestured for Bo to leave the room. Although this irritated Bo, he did
as his father indicated.
“Hello, Barry, John, I have lunch waiting by the
pool. I figured we’d have something to eat before we get down to business.”
“That sounds good,” Barry answered.
“Me too,” John said, “I’m starving!”
The men sat by the pool making small talk while the
servants, who were all attractive young women, brought them their meal. After
lunch, the conversation became serious.
“Since you asked us to fly all the way out here, I
suppose you found what you were looking for,” John commented.
“It looks pretty damn good!” Vince exclaimed. “As
far as the geologist and everyone else involved knows, the testing I’ve had
them doing has been done on my land. I hired a couple of Indian guides to take
Barry’s men and their sonic testing equipment into the area on the reservation
that we thought would be productive. The crew didn’t have a clue that they
weren’t on my property; only my two Indian guides knew. These Arapaho guides
have been paid well, and know they stand to make a lot more money if they keep
their mouths shut. But just in case, to keep them honest, I’ve threatened them
with their lives if they say anything. The first round of test results has
shown a high percentage of likelihood there is an ocean of crude under that
valley.”