Nanci couldn’t help but be somewhat nervous on Saturday morning. She felt like she’d made good progress in getting to know the people in the Tyler church in her first week in town. Right at the moment she was really more concerned with getting to know the people at Conestoga, mostly because there wasn’t any way to make casual contact with the people there like there was at the Prairie Dawn in Tyler. Oh, she’d talked with Shirley Gamble and Cathy Westbrook at the potluck last Sunday and at the work bee on Monday, and had talked on the phone with Shirley a couple of times, but that had been about all.

It seemed to her like this barbecue was going to be a make-it or break-it time to make friends with the people from the Conestoga church, a casual way to get to know them – she might never have a better opportunity.

Even though she was more or less the guest of honor, she felt she ought to take something for the potluck, and she’d decided on a peach cobbler recipe that they used on the river. In fact, it was a recipe they made the fourth day out on every trip, in an improvised oven on top of the propane stove they used for cooking. They didn’t bake in the oven every day on the trip, but in six years of river trips she’d learned the tricks of using it. She’d even made it in a real oven from time to time, back when she was going to Black Mesa College in Phoenix and living with her brother and sister-in-law and their two kids. It had the advantage of being a recipe she’d made often enough that it was hard to mess up.

She got up early that morning, did her regular morning devotions before starting the cobbler, and let it bake while she did her daily exercise. The timing was about right to take it out of the oven just as she finished her workout; she did a few chores around the house while it cooled, then took a fresh shower and changed into what she wanted to wear for the barbecue. It obviously wouldn’t be a good idea to be overdressed, and Shirley had said it was going to be casual, anyway.

In the end, she decided on wearing jeans, a dark blue blouse with a clerical collar, a denim jacket and the rather battered Tilley hat she had worn on the river since her first summer there. It was as close as she could come to a cowboy hat, and she thought that maybe sooner or later she might have to get the real thing. She didn’t have any cowboy boots either, though they would be more appropriate, and she thought she might have to buy a pair of them, too. The hiking boots she had occasionally used on the river were as close as she could get, so decided to wear them.

Finally there wasn’t anything left to do, and she didn’t just want to sit around while the hours passed, so she wrapped up the cobbler, which was now cool enough to handle, and went out to the car to head for the Westbrook place. She’d never been there before, but Bernice had drawn her a map of how to find it. Maybe, she thought, she could get a few minutes to talk to Cathy Westbrook; while she hadn’t had much time to talk to her yet, she had the impression that she would be an interesting person to know, and that went for her husband, as well.

She managed to find Lexington easily enough, since it was right on the state highway, but from there on she needed the map. She took a few minutes to go out of her way far enough to make sure she could find the Conestoga church without an all-out search, and even drove into the churchyard just to look the place over. It seemed rather forlorn with no one around, and she noticed that it really needed painting; there was a lot of peeling paint, but apparently people out there had other things to do. That was something she needed to ask about, but gently; maybe there was some reason why the place had been let go a little. But there would be plenty of time for her to find out.

The Westbrook place was only a few miles off, and it proved easy to find. If there was any question she only had to look out in the field at a herd of grazing buffalo. She remembered someone saying that the Westbrooks were the only ranchers in the vicinity running buffalo rather than the normal beef cattle, and it seemed like an unusual thing to do from what little she knew about it. But she knew buffalo tasted good – she only had to remember the potluck at the Tyler church last Sunday, where she’d been told that the Westbrooks had provided the meat.

She pulled to a stop in front of the house – a low ranch house that seemed very typical and appropriate in the setting. There were outbuildings scattered around, including a garage close to the house with the doors open. There were a couple of corrals containing horses and a solid board enclosure nearby. She wondered what that was all about, but suspected she would soon know. There were distant horizons in every direction, and here and there she could see more buffalo grazing. On first impression it didn’t seem much like the more open spaces of Arizona she was familiar with, and it was very different from Kentucky and Chicago.

“Well, good morning, Reverend,” she heard Trent Westbrook call from the garage. “We weren’t expecting you quite so soon.”

“I decided to leave early,” she admitted. “I didn’t know how much trouble I might have finding this place, but as it turned out I drove right to it.”

“We’re not that hard to find,” he grinned. “Cathy went over to Shirley’s for something or other, and I sent Keith into town to get a couple of things, so you’re stuck with me. I’ve just been cleaning some stuff out of the machinery barn, and after Keith gets back we’re going to set some tables up in there for this afternoon.”

“Well, let me help,” she offered. “I haven’t got anything better to do.”

It proved that Trent had already made a good start on the project, and he had already taken much out of the barn or shoved it to the side, leaving an open area of concrete floor in the middle. “We figured we’d better be out of the wind if it kicks up,” the rancher said. “Wouldn’t be surprised if it did.”

“I can live with it if I have to,” Nanci shrugged. “I’ve cooked and eaten a good many meals in places where we didn’t have any protection at all.”

While Trent continued moving things to make for more floor space, Nanci spotted a broom and began to sweep the place out. In only a few minutes they had things pretty well under control, and though Trent found some things to piddle with, Nanci felt like she’d run out of things to do. “Nice place you have here,” she said, just trying to make a little conversation.

“It serves,” Trent shrugged. “My granddad homesteaded this place over a hundred years ago. He built a sod hut and tried to make a go of it farming dryland wheat, but he realized right quick that it wasn’t the brightest idea he ever had.”

“I don’t know much about it, but I get the impression that he wasn’t alone in finding that out.”

“Well, yes. A lot depended on where people were located. It doesn’t look much different between here and over around Tyler, but there are things that make a big difference that don’t meet the eye. There’s no point in getting into the ins and outs of it, but he switched over to beef cattle, and did well enough that he could build the house. We Westbrooks have more or less made a go of it ever since.”

“I recall you saying the other day that you’d switched over to buffalo. That’s got to be something quite different than your normal beef cattle. How did that happen?”

“Reverend, although a lot of people have run beef cattle around here for a lot of years, it’s always been a pain in the neck. Everyone who runs them can tell you stories of problems that all come from the fact that beef cattle really aren’t quite right for country like this. To make a long story short, one day I was thinking about it and I realized that it doesn’t matter if buffalo were created by God or designed by evolution, they were made for this kind of country. It’s a long story, but it turned into one of those things where one discovery leads to another, and five years later I sold off the last of my Herefords and had a straight buffalo ranch.”

“It must have taken some courage to step away from what you knew and do something different,” Nanci commented.

“Most people around here thought I was crazy. In fact, a lot of people still think it. I was a long time learning that buffalo aren’t beef cattle, and they have to be treated differently. To be honest, they bring a whole new set of problems with them, and the solutions aren’t always the ones you’d use with beef cattle. Most ranchers around here understand beef cattle, Reverend. They’re a domesticated animal and fairly predictable, and in my opinion they’re about as dumb as your average rock. Buffalo aren’t a whole lot smarter, but when you get right down to it they’re still a wild animal, and they are not always as predictable as beef cattle. They’re big, tough, and mean, and that makes them dangerous. Their minds work differently, and we’ve had to learn how to handle them. You see the solid board fence on that holding pen over there?” he asked as he pointed.

“Yes, I was wondering about that.”

“That’s one of those tricks I had to learn the hard way. Buffalo aren’t as likely to want to escape if they can’t see a place to escape to. The walls of those pens are pretty solid, but not that strong. A ton and a half of buffalo could knock one of them down without hardly trying, but since they can’t see anything outside the fence, they don’t try. Also, they’re herd beasts, and they don’t like to be alone. So long as they have some friends around they usually stay pretty calm. Usually, that is. There aren’t many guarantees.”

“Wow, there’s more to it than I thought.”

“There’s more to it than I thought, too,” he grinned. “At least I realize that I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“That’s always the case, isn’t it? I mean, at one time I thought being a Christian was a pretty simple thing, but the more I dug into it the more I found there was to learn. What are some of the other problems?”

“Well, one of the big ones is just trying the keep the herd pure. Buffalo will crossbreed with domestic cattle and the results sometimes don’t work out well. There are only a few thousand genetically pure buffalo in the world, and only a handful of them are in my herd. Like most buffalo breeders, I’m trying to breed the cattle genes out of the herd, but it’s a slow process, partly due to the fact that there’s very little genetic diversity thanks to them almost being wiped out a century and a half ago. Before any of my calves reach breeding age their DNA is checked. The average cattle genes in this herd are just slightly over one percent, and that’s pretty good. I do have a steer that’s three-point-two percent, but he doesn’t figure in the breeding and will be going to market soon.”

“Is there much of a market for your buffalo?”

“Big enough, although it’s a little different than beef cattle.”

“What does the meat taste like?”

“You should know,” he grinned. “That’s what the roasts were at the church dinner last Sunday. Sometimes we have to cull an animal and can’t send it to market for some reason, so we put it in our own freezer instead. A full-grown animal can be worth several thousand dollars depending on a lot of things, so we don’t like to throw that kind of cash away.”

“So that was buffalo. I thought it tasted better than beef,” she said, figuring a little flattery couldn’t hurt.

“It pretty much is, but it’s lower in fat and cholesterol and higher in protein than beef. It may take a while, but in the long run I think people are going to see the advantages. If people want to eat healthy beef, this is as healthy as you can get. Sometimes it’s hard to think in the long term, but I think the long run works in our favor.”

After a while they went and looked at some of the big, burly animals in a field close to the house. Nanci knew what one of them looked like, of course, but now she saw the animals in a little different light. Trent explained that technically they were known as bison, and some people always called them that, but that most ranchers locally called them by the more familiar if somewhat incorrect name. “Those are buffalo as far as I’m concerned,” he told her. “If anyone wants to split hairs about it, Reverend, I think you have a good idea of what I think about hairsplitters.”

“Funny you should mention that,” she laughed. “We sure have a lot of hairsplitters in my field, and it gets pretty tiring hearing it sometimes.”

“From what I know about it, the question of buffalo versus bison seems pretty tame to me by comparison.”

Keith Westbrook was a little less than totally enthused about the get-together at his parents’ house that afternoon. It would all be made up of people he knew of course, and most of them would be adults. The chances of there being anyone near his own age were pretty slim; there might be a couple kids there who were a lot younger than he was, but he knew he was just about alone in his general age group in the church. There were some kids in the Tyler church he knew, and some of them he even considered to be friends – but none of them would be coming to this event.

So from his viewpoint it was a lot of work for not much enjoyment. He could think of other things he’d rather do, like going to town and hanging out with Amber a little. He wasn’t sure how much he really liked Amber, but he was worried about her. Things were sure rough for her!

Over lunch the day before, Amber had admitted to him that she was worried about her mother. There had been no word from her since the previous Saturday, and though Amber wouldn’t come right out and say it, she hinted that it was a long time for her to be gone, even considering her previous disappearances, which had mostly been for just a night or two. Once again, there really wasn’t much that he could do but worry along with her, even though he couldn’t do much to comfort her being stuck out on the ranch.

Thus it was that his dad telling him to head into Tyler and pick up some tables and chairs from the fellowship hall there came as a welcome relief in a number of ways. It got him off the ranch for a couple hours and away from all the little chores his folks would come up with for him. More importantly, at least in his mind, if he was careful and kept it quick he would at least get to touch base with Amber for a few minutes. That would give him a chance to see if she’d heard anything about her mother, not that her mother showing back up would actually solve anything except maybe help her worry a little less.

Even though he was still an underage driver – and he knew the sheriff knew it – he didn’t expect any problems, especially as he kept to familiar back roads, rather than taking the highway. He’d been making the run into Tyler to do this or that chore for his parents for over a year, and it wouldn’t be long before he had his driver’s license anyway. It wouldn’t really change much except being able to make the run into town to hang out with his friends a little, rather than just to do an errand. He’d heard stories and seen on TV how city kids got to spend a lot of time on their own, having fun with their friends, but that was in a city, not out in ranch country.

The only problem with this trip was that it was going to take some time to load the stuff from the Tyler church fellowship hall by himself. The trestle tables were big and awkward, and a second set of hands would be welcome. About halfway to town an idea came to him: if he swung by Amber’s place first, maybe she could help him with the hardest part, and he would get a few more minutes to talk with her that way.

As usual, it was hungry and cold in the little shack when Amber got up, though with the season warming up it wasn’t as bad as it had been as little as a month before. In her prowling around at the mill after dark she’d managed to come up with half a bucket full of what was likely spilled cattle feed, so there would be porridge to eat for a couple of days. Unappetizing, but it would beat nothing, and there had been plenty of days of that – nothing at all to eat – in the last year or so. If she stretched it out, with the help of the school lunches, it might get her through a few days.

As the weather warmed up, there would be a few more options; there was a book in the school library about what wild plants were good to eat, like dandelion greens. They didn’t sound very appetizing, but they had to be better than cattle feed and dirt made into a makeshift gruel.

Amber hadn’t been concerned when her mother didn’t come home in the early days the week before, since she had often been gone two or three days with no warning. However, as more days went by that began to change. She had never been gone this long before. Although Amber didn’t have any real knowledge of what might have happened to her mother, somehow she expected that things wouldn’t be very good if and when she did show up.

She was trying to figure out what would be the most worthwhile thing to do when she heard a knocking at the back door. It couldn’t be her mother, of course; she would have come right in. When she went to the door, she was surprised to see Keith standing there. “Hi,” she said shyly. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I had to come to town to run an errand for my folks,” he explained. “I thought maybe you could help me out and we could talk for a few minutes.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “You’re my only friend, Keith, and I owe you a lot. I’ll be glad to help you out. What do you need?”

“I need to pick up some tables from the church,” he explained. “They’re having a potluck out at our house today to help welcome the new pastor. I thought maybe you could help me move the tables.”

Since it was about as warm outside as it was in the shack, Amber didn’t put on more clothes; she was already wearing a jacket, a fairly nice one she’d found in the trash across town not long before. They went out and got in the pickup; while she could tell it was old and had seen better days, it was also the first time she’d been in a vehicle in more than a year. “So,” he said as he started the pickup, “have you heard anything from your mother?”

“Not a thing. Keith, I’m starting to get worried. I don’t know what could have happened to her, and I don’t know what to do.”

Once Keith had the Fellowship Hall unlocked, it didn’t take them long to load the tables and chairs into the pickup; Keith did most of the heavy stuff, while she helped out guiding things where she could. In only a few minutes Keith said, “Well, that’s all I’m going to need. Thanks, Amber.”

“It’s no problem,” she said. “At least I got to see you for a few minutes. It gets lonely at times.”

“I’ll probably be bringing these things back this evening. If I do it right, I ought to be able to bring you some leftovers from the potluck, like I did last Sunday.”

“That would be wonderful,” she smiled. “That’s the best food I’ve had in a while. It would be a lot better than the cattle feed porridge I have to eat right now.”

“Cattle feed?” he frowned.

“Yeah, they spilled some down at the mill. I know it’s not very good, but it’s all I’ve got, and it beats nothing to eat at all.”

All of a sudden Keith got a really heavy feeling at the bottom of his gut. He knew the situation was not good for Amber, but he’d never realized things were quite that bad either. It seemed downright obscene that the church members would be stuffing themselves with an over abundance of great food out at the ranch while Amber had to live on spilled cattle feed.

Keith knew very well that not many people liked Amber’s mother, and that they didn’t like Amber by extension, but she was just a kid trying to survive, no matter what people thought of her mother. “Amber,” he said slowly. “Is there any reason you have to be around town today?”

“Not really. I mean, if Mom comes home, she’s probably going to need some help, but there’s no telling if she’s going to be home today.”

“Why don’t you ride out to the ranch with me?” he suggested. “Mom and Dad were saying that they wanted people to bring their friends to meet the new pastor, and you’re my friend.”

“I’d love to do it, Keith,” she sighed. “But won’t it get you into trouble with your folks? I mean to have you bring me to something like that?”

“It might,” he conceded. “But it might be worth it, too.”

“Keith, I don’t want you to get into trouble. I depend on you too much as it is, and I wouldn’t want you to do something that might mess that up.”

“I don’t want to either. But it might be worth the risk, too. Amber, I’ve spent a lot of time sitting in church when I don’t want to be there, but I see now that I might have learned a few things sitting there, too. As I see it, it’s not a question of what will happen to me if I help you, but what will happen to you if I don’t.”

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