As if she’d read his mind, Rory honked. He stopped and she pulled up alongside of him.
“In your application, you didn’t plan to utilize this area for anything?”
“No,” he shouted over the engines. “Too close to the road. I’d add higher fencing, but where I envision the habitat starting is down a little farther.”
“Thanks. Let’s go there.”
When they arrived at the first section, about halfway into the piece of land, with the natural boundaries, they left the ATVs and walked.
Rory didn’t say much. She took out a small notebook and wrote in it. She’d ask a question or two. Do the silent survey thing and they’d move on. Seemed they walked most of the bottom half of the property. She was very thorough—he’d give her that.
The wind kicked up and snow started coming down harder. Pretty snow—huge flakes that swirled like a white tornado in the gusts of wind.
She moved closer to him. She’d worn coveralls and a heavy jacket, just like he had, but even three layers wasn’t much protection. “Getting nasty out here. Let’s head back.”
The trek back to the ATVs was uphill and straight into the wind, making conversation impossible. By the time they reached the vehicles they needed to catch their breath.
Dalton faced away from the wind, resting his backside on the back end. He tugged Rory against him. “Lemme be your windbreak until we’re ready to go.”
“Thanks.”
Maybe it made him a sap, or stupid, but it felt right in that moment. Holding Rory while the snow blew around them. She anchored him in a way he’d never imagined.
She stepped back. “Okay, my lungs stopped burning.”
“Mine too. I’ll lead the way.”
Even with all the stops on the way down, it still took them longer to get back up to the flat land.
After they’d loaded their respective four-wheelers, he said, “Wanna sit in my truck while your vehicle warms up before you head back?”
“That’d be great. I have some more questions anyway.”
Rory ditched the hat and the hood before she loosened the scarf and pulled off her gloves. “Man. I didn’t know we were supposed to get a snowstorm today.”
“We’re not.” He removed his gloves and grabbed the thermos from the bench seat. He twisted the cup off the top and unscrewed the lid.
“Is that…hot coffee?”
“Yes ma’am. Don’t know how hot it is anymore.” Dalton poured the steaming liquid in the cup and passed it to her. “Have the first sip. We’ll share.”
Rory tipped the cup and drank. Then she moaned. “Still hot enough. God. This is heaven.”
“Few things are better than a cup of hot coffee after you’ve been out workin’ in the cold.”
“True.” She gulped the remainder and passed the empty cup back. “Your turn.”
He poured himself a cup and couldn’t help but sigh after the first sip. He reached over and cranked the heat higher. “You said you had more questions?”
“Biggest one is why do you think you can keep elk within the boundaries?”
“Because they’re dumb. Give ’em food and water in the same place and they’ll stick around. No different than cattle really.”
“What about when the male elk are in the rut? Think the bulls will go looking across other pastures for more cows to breed?”
“I don’t think so. The way to keep that from happening is limiting the number of bulls. Given the size of the farm, I’d say between forty and fifty elk is the maximum number for the herd. Then cycle the bulls out after two years. Let someone else grow bulls for size and horns. I’m more interested in keeping a healthy herd and that means calves. Isn’t the survival rate of an elk calf in the wild under ten percent, given the number of predators?”
Rory nodded. “The whole let-nature-run-its-course argument isn’t valid. Especially not in Wyoming. The state has been supplementing feed for the Yellowstone and Teton herds since the 1930s.”
“You know a lot about this.” He held up his hand. “Don’t take that the wrong way. I know you’ve got a master’s degree, but to be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure what your degrees were in. Now I understand why your boss selected you for the project. But you oughta be workin’ in Yellowstone or the Tetons. Hell, you oughta be running those programs.”
She looked at him strangely. Fidgeted. “Can I have another cup of coffee?”
Why had she hedged? “Sure.” He poured and handed it over.
“Thanks.” After she took a drink, she asked, “So what will you do if another section of land is selected for this program?”
“I’ve been lookin’ at land in Montana. My buddy Boden is one of those naturalists. He doesn’t stock elk on his hunting preserve, which is just a backwards way of thinking when he already feeds the damn animals. It’d be better for his business if he could guarantee an elk to the guys who pay the astronomical out of state hunting fees.”
“You’d have an outlet to peddle your elk flesh?” she asked with a grin.
“Yep.” Dalton grabbed her hand. “So it’s all on your shoulders whether or not I make this venture work here. If it’s a no go…”
“What?”
He shrugged and hated himself for the lie that was about to come out. “Then maybe I’ll have to go.”
Rory didn’t get indignant and warn him she hated ultimatums. A shrewd look entered her eyes and vanished. “Well. Then let’s hope your land measures up in the end.”
“Any chance you can tell me who I’m competing against?”
“No chance. But I will say I’m at the tail end of these inspections.”
“Saved the best for last, huh?”
She laughed.
“Are you comin’ over tonight?”
“I hadn’t planned on it. Why?”
“Because I didn’t see you last night and I’m missin’ you.”
“Dalton—”
“It’s fine, sugarplum, if you’ve got other plans. Your loss that you won’t get to see the romantic surprise I had for you.”
“What kind of romantic surprise?”
“The usual kind. I tell you I’ve got a surprise and refuse to tell you what it is.”
Rory laid her hand on his cheek. “You are a horrible tease. But I’ll be there.”