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“The problem—or yeah, Jodie, excuse—they’re telling me is they want easier trailer access and more room around the holding site once the helicopters start bringing horses in.”
“I don’t understand,” Mac said. “All the work we did. The site had been approved, what, a year ago?” He glanced at Jodie, who nodded. Mac pulled Jodie’s laptop closer and looked at the map again. “Where are they moving it?”
“You’re gonna love this. Virgil’s.”
Jodie’s gaze snapped to Mac’s. He leaned back in his chair. “Did Virgil agree?”
“Apparently.”
“You talk to him?” Mac asked.
“Oh hell no.” Hank’s answer came immediately. “Pardon my French, Jodie.”
She grinned at Mac, but her eyes looked fierce. “Oh, don’t worry, I said something worse a minute ago.”
“Y’all may not have the same access you would’ve had here.” Hank exhaled hard enough that the phone picked it up. “I agreed to let them use my land because I wanted people able to see what was happening. They knew that going in.”
Jodie wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. Mac guessed she wished it was the neck of the person who’d changed the gather.
“So what kind of access are they so generously giving us now?” she asked.
“That’s what I can’t get a straight answer on. ‘Operational boundaries.’ ‘Contractor requirements.’ ‘Private-property restrictions.’ Pick your phrase, it’s all gobbledygook.”
Jodie’s mouth had gone tight.
“Who called you?” Mac asked.
“One of the new women out of the field office. I didn’t catch whether she was the Incident Commander handling the contract or just delivering the news. She was polite about it.” He snorted. “I don’t give a damn how polite somebody is when they tell me all the work we just did doesn’t matter anymore. And I sure don’t give one when it means horses are gonna suffer for it. Not to mention every steer or sheep anywhere near that flight path. We got young calves out there. Not to mention…”
There it is.
Mac stared at his coffee mug. Jodie frowned at Mac, not understanding, but he did.
“Your vets.”
“My vets.” Hank sounded both pissed off and resigned. “They don’t need that. They don’t need to watch something being chased down by some damn helo.”
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“What happens to the setup at your place?” Mac asked.
“Most of it can stay. It’s my fencing. My tanks. The portable stuff belongs to the group or can be moved.” Hank paused. “There’s the camping gear and equipment Willow’s people left. If they’re shifting everything, somebody needs to tell me what goes where and how.”
“Okay. Don’t move anything yet.” Jodie picked up her phone and took it off Do Not Disturb.
“Wasn’t planning to until I talked to Willow or you.”
“Let me talk to Willow. We’ll figure out what belongs where.”
“There’s one more thing,” Hank said. “Virgil’s place gives them a lot more room, I’ll give them that. Better access for big trailers, too. But if he starts telling people they can’t watch what’s happening because it’s his private land…” Hank stopped.
“You don’t like it,” Mac said.
“No.”
Neither did Mac, or Jodie.
That didn’t mean anything improper was happening. Private property was private property. Contractors had liability rules. Helicopter operations added safety concerns that hadn’t existed when everyone expected bait traps.
