Woke up Monday morning to the news that two fugitives were holed up somewhere around Big Twig. They were on the run and had abandoned their car and headed into the hills. At around Noon, word was that they might be heading South on the Boulder Road. That’s a mile from the ranch.
My husband, to be mild, is not an alarmist. I’ve never seen him “jumpy” unless somebody comes up to him from behind. He is one of the most laid back dudes I’ve ever met. So when I saw him lock the door, I was a bit surprised.
“I don’t want to be alone here when you go out to feed (the cattle bales of hay),” I mewed.
With that he went into the other room and came back with the Colt.
“You can pull back on the trigger and it will fire. But it will be hard to pull. So you can also cock the gun and then pull the trigger, ” he said as he laid the gun on my desk.
I just stared at him.
He then left and went into the mudroom and came back with a rifle.
“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ve taken the magazine out so you can try it,” he said in a matter-of-fact way.
“I don’t want to try it. I want to practice some time and then I want to try it. But right now I don’t think I like the idea of confronting some meth dealers with guns I have never touched before. The last time I shot a rifle was when I was 12 shooting tin cans. So I’d probably miss and they’d start laughing and then kill me. So I think I’m going to pass on holding down the fort with my six shooter. I’m going to town and hang out with a glass of Pinot until they catch them.”
“Suit yourself,” he said as he went out the door.
So I packed up my I Pad and hung out in my car in front of the hot spot at The Grand Hotel and Restaurant. I watched a couple episodes of “Schitts Creek” which seemed appropriate. When The Grand opened at 4PM I went inside and went back to work. At about 5PM a sheriff’s car went roaring down main street in the direction of the Boulder Valley. And about a half hour later, somebody strode in the door and said that they had caught the desperados. Guess they were hiding in a ditch and jumped out with their hands up. They were cold and hungry and figured jail was better than being out on the frozen tundra.
Just another day in Paradise.
Aha, so that’s Daphne’s Grand Hotel! And that’s Daphne’s snow . . . and now I know why Daphne moved to New York.