Chapter 6
It was approaching lunch. Molly had completed her review of finances when she remembered she had Kitty’s email address in her pocket.
She wanted to get it entered in her laptop in case Shadow became pregnant and she needed Bear’s papers.
She pulled the scrap of paper from her pocket and added Kitty to her contacts.
Then, for fun, she Googled Kitty McKinnon to see what might pop up.
She was astonished to see her laptop populate with photos and stories about barrel racing.
Oh my God. Kitty was a barrel racer. Excited, she clicked on several articles and started reading.
Kitty was a serious barrel racer. She read on.
The stories chronicled Kitty’s career which mirrored Molly’s riding days years earlier.
They’d raced the same events at the same rodeos with similar results.
Molly sat back laughing. She couldn’t help it. It was just so funny. What a small world. Bart’s kid sister was a world-class barrel racer. Well, she couldn’t help herself now. What was the point in waiting to see if Shadow was pregnant? She brought up her email and started writing.
Dear Kitty,
We’ve never met, but I ran into your wayward brother Bart this weekend when our German Shepherds found each other in the woods.
My Shadow was in heat. Bear found her, and when Bart happened upon them, they were tied. I had a breeding appointment this week for Shadow but cancelled it after Bear and Shadow spent two very productive days together.
Bart tells me Bear might have papers. Shadow is thoroughly documented. If this pregnancy takes, which I’m pretty sure it will, my plan is to market the puppies. Of course, Bear’s papers would be really helpful. Bart said he thought you might be willing to share them with me.
I guess I need to say that Bart and I have become friends too. He’s back in the mountains, but I’m hoping to see him in about a month when he comes out to provision again.
And after Googling your name, I see our careers may have crossed at some point. My name is Molly McGuire, but I raced as Molly Mack. I think my name may be engraved a few inches above yours on that Rider of the Year trophy for the Western States Barrel Racing Association.
What a hoot that is! Howdy, Partner!
Anyway, if you have papers for Bear, that would be great. I’ll keep you posted when I confirm the pregnancy.
Keep riding,
Molly Mack
Molly sat back and chuckled as she read and re-read her note to Kitty.
Satisfied it said what she wanted, she pressed send.
Well, that was interesting. She wondered what the internet might have to say about Bart.
She Googled Bart McKinnon and watched her page populate with articles from The Daily Inter Lake, the local Kalispell newspaper.
Most of the articles chronicled the career of a local war hero.
The most prominent articles featured accounts of the three Silver Stars Bart was awarded for valor in combat during the war in Afghanistan.
A Silver Star is the military’s third highest award for combat-related heroism.
Winning a Silver Star is unusual. Winning three Silver Stars places a soldier in a rarified group of decorated soldiers.
Reading the articles, Molly was mesmerized.
She Googled Bart McKinnon Silver Star and found the official verbatim reports that summarized the combat events that gave rise to the award.
The most celebrated, Bart’s second Silver Star, recounted a scene in which Bart’s troop was ambushed in a rural village, with one of Bart’s fellow soldiers left wounded in the open.
Under heavy enemy fire, Bart had run to pull the soldier to cover.
In the course of the event, Bart was hit by eight enemy bullets.
Five were lodged in his bullet proof vest, but three entered his body.
Seriously wounded, Bart pulled the soldier to safety.
The rescued soldier survived the event with five bullet wounds.
The event was documented by Bart’s commanding officer, the rescued man, and four soldiers in Bart’s unit who were laying down cover for him.
Over a thousand rounds were discharged in the furious firefight.
After reading the account, Molly sat back dazed.
How could a soldier be normal after that?
And that was just one of the Silver Star accounts.
She looked up the other two and read the details.
Emotional, she wiped a rare tear from her cheek.
This wasn’t from a war novel. These were true life documented accounts of heroic acts by soldiers fighting for their country.
And Molly had just spoken with Bart about the aftermath of his service.
No wonder he suffered severe Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
What would prepare a man to run into enemy fire to rescue a fellow soldier—and after being hit eight times, to drag him to safety.
She had just wiped a tear from her cheek when Mai appeared at her door. “I brought you some noodles. You forgot to eat lunch.”
Molly looked at her phone. It was early afternoon. She’d worked through lunch.
“I guess I lost track of time.”
Mai set the covered plate of noodles on her desk.
“Mai, thank you so much. That is so thoughtful. Now that you remind me, yes, I’m hungry.”
Mai left, and Molly dug into the delicious fried noodles with vegetables and chicken.
Reading about Bart’s Silver Stars had really thrown her off.
She ate quietly. She didn’t feel like working and everything was pretty much in order.
She decided to leave early and take Jo for a ride.
Shadow would like that too. Shadow was looking patiently at Molly, waiting for it to be time to go outside.
Just as she was about to get up, her cell phone pinged. She looked and saw she had an email from Kitty McKinnon. She chuckled, sat back in her chair, and opened the message on her laptop.
Dear Molly,
OMG! Molly Omak, the legend! Your email cracked me up.
Of course I have Bear’s papers. I’ve attached an electronic version. As you’ll see, Bear’s father was a champion and all is in order. Let me know if you need anything else. And please let me know if Shadow is expecting. So exciting!
I saw you ride in Pendleton. It might have been one of your last races and one of my first. So, yes, we did compete together in at least one rodeo.
I can’t remember the results, but I know I didn’t win, and I think it’s possible you did.
But, yes, they were still talking about Molly Mack long after you retired from the circuit.
I can’t believe you ran into Bart and that Bear and Shadow got together. What are the odds of that?
We are so worried about Bart. We know he’s off the grid. Honestly, it’s a relief to know he’s still alive. I don’t know what he told you about his past, so I’m not going to compromise his privacy, but anything you can tell me would be so greatly appreciated.
The whole family is anxious to hear an update on him.
Okay, so it’s settled. I’ll do my farewell ride at the Omak Stampede. That will give me an excuse to come your way. When you next see Bart, please tell him his kid sister will be doing her farewell tour at the Stampede and that I’ll have a broken heart if he doesn’t come see me ride one last time.
Brad and I are ready to start a family and our responsibilities are increasing at the ranch, so it’s time for this barrel racer to grow up and act like a big girl.
Please write again with more details on Bart and where you are. I’m assuming you’re near the Pasayten somewhere if you ran into him.
Kitty
Molly read Kitty’s email several times, smiling.
How funny that Kitty knew about her nickname Molly Omak.
Yes, she was born Molly McGuire but every man in the McGuire lineage going back as far she was aware used the nickname Mack, including her grandfathers, her father, and her brother.
Thus, it’s Mack’s Diner at the resort, and Mack Road that leads to Molly’s cabin, and Mack Livestock Auctions started by her father and now run by her brother.
It was a natural for her to race as Molly Mack and, well, Molly Omak just evolved from that.
She decided to sit on Kitty’s email and write back later. Jo was waiting and Shadow needed to get outside.
Jo was excited to get out of her stall. Molly saddled her up, and they headed out on their favorite ride.
Out of the stables, Jo’s head was up and down, her nostrils drinking in the mountain air, signaling that she wanted to run.
Jo gave her a kick and let her move into a gentle trot.
In her day, Jo was a thrilling ride, a quarter horse with wheels, the best barrel racing horse on the circuit.
Molly knew the trot wouldn’t last long, but Jo wanted to run and Molly wanted her to get the exercise.
Shadow was barking her approval as Molly and Jo trotted a quarter mile up the trail.
Eventually, Jo slowed and they fell into a steady walking pace. The trail followed Alpine Creek through a beautiful ponderosa forest, the fresh pine intoxicating. Molly was at her happiest riding Jo in an old growth forest next to a mountain stream, Shadow trotting behind exploring smells.
Molly imagined that Bart, at this very time, might be walking through a similar forest, perhaps next to a creek, making long, athletic strides, holding the line for a fully loaded Beryl, Bear trotting behind.
He wouldn’t know she’d made contact with Kitty, and she wondered how he’d feel about that.
She also wondered to what extent he’d kept in contact with his family.
He’d spoken warmly about Kitty and his family so, she didn’t feel an estrangement was there.
But Kitty expressed concern about Bart, his whereabouts, how he was doing, and requested information for the family.
She’d declined to talk about the PTSD, not knowing what Bart had shared with Molly.
And she probably wasn’t sure about the nature of Bart’s friendship with Molly.
But Molly guessed she’d know. Kitty was a barrel racer.
And that’s what barrel racers did. They rode pell-mell by day and bonked cowboys by night.
Molly smiled thinking back on her rodeo days, and stroked Jo’s neck, “We had quite the time, didn’t we, girl.”