Nadia Nichols - Montana Standoff

“You can start by putting some emergency zoning into place. New Millennium will be looking to house over three hundred contractors in the immediate area. Zone your town to prohibit temporary cluster housing, rapid growth and sprawl. Zone the hell out of it. You say the water samples were destroyed?”

“They were in Sam Blackmore’s car,” Brown said, “and his car was totaled. It was hauled to a place called Maffick’s Salvage in Jefferson. Maybe the samples survived, but…”

“I’ll check with the local police,” Steven said. “But if they didn’t, you’ll need to take fresh samples from every year-round or intermittent creek or seep that would be impacted by this mine, and the samples need to be kept in a safe place. They’re the most important evidence you’ll ever have against this company. And then you need to start making noise. A lot of noise. The more people who know about this, the better. The more press releases that get into the newspapers, the better. Invite heavy-hitting journalists here to tour the site.

“We need to get the Yellowstone Coalition on the bandwagon, along with the Rocky Mountain Conservancy and the Beartooth Alliance. They can all help your cause. I’ll do what I can to get the ball rolling on that end. Every phone call can make a difference. If you can do a mailing, do it. Start a petition drive. Get signatures, names and addresses of all voters who oppose the mine.”

“We have no money,” Brown stated bluntly. “We all work, but our jobs barely put food on the table.”

“Money is what a campaign like this needs,” Steven said. “You need to find backing. Environmentally friendly businesses, sportsmen and women who hunt and fish this area. Neighboring communities, the tourism industry, the tourists themselves. Anyone who wouldn’t want to see this wilderness destroyed and would kick in dollars to protect it. A big coup would be to get a national group like the Sierra Club or the Nature Conservancy on board. I’ll make some phone calls to them, too.”

“Will you come to the next meeting?” Amy Littlefield asked.

Steven hesitated. He glanced back to Manning, who was stabbing his finger in Molly Ferguson’s face, then looked back at the ring of faces surrounding him. Thought about Mary Pretty Shield and the last time he’d ever seen her, the way she’d smiled over her shoulder at him as she walked out his office door. After her death, he vowed he’d never fight these fights again, yet it was her memory that had brought him to Moose Horn. How could he abandon these people now?

“I’ll be there.” He paused again. “A campaign like this takes over your life,” he cautioned. “Going up against a giant like New Millennium Mining will become the longest, nastiest fight you’ve ever gotten into. The litigation could drag on for years, and I’ll tell you this right now. The odds are against you.”

“We have to try.” Brown looked around at the ring of hopeful faces as they nodded their assent. “We have to.”

MOLLY STOOD OUTSIDE the door of the town hall building, hugging herself against the cold and shivering in spite of her resolve to appear stoic, as the people filtered slowly from the building. Ken Manning had just blasted her with both barrels, not that she could blame him. She’d failed her first official assignment for the law firm quite miserably. “That was quite a circus act, Ms. Ferguson,” he’d stated bluntly as the meeting adjourned.

“I’m sorry.” It was all she could think to say.

Manning had frowned. “Quite frankly, I’m sorry, too. It’s a disgrace when a multibillion dollar corporation like Condor International is handed legal representation of your caliber, especially from a firm that’s done plenty of profitable business with us in the past and should know better.”

“Mr. Manning, really, I’m so sorry. I was informed about this meeting an hour before I had to drive down here. An associate somehow gave me the wrong file to study, and—”

“So I noticed,” he’d said. “Sourdough Mining?”

“I…I’m not exactly sure where the company is based out of, but they mine copper and iron ore and—”

“I also noticed that you arrived here with the opposition’s attorney. Is that another one of your questionable strategies?”

Molly had struggled to maintain her calm. “As I explained earlier, my car went off the road five miles from Moose Horn. Mr. Young Bear was kind enough to stop and offer me assistance. I accepted his offer of a ride. As a matter of fact my car’s still in the ditch…”

“How very unfortunate for you,” Manning said, as he pulled on his overcoat. “You made a mockery of my project at this meeting, and you can be sure that I’ll be calling Jarrod Skelton first thing Monday morning and letting him know what I thought about your performance.”

Without another word he’d turned and left her standing behind the desk, her left cheek throbbing and her job in very dire straits. Finding the door was a matter of following the cold draft that wafted in from outside. There she stood, shivering, searching her pockets for a tissue and praying that Steven Young Bear hadn’t left yet, because she was pretty sure none of Moose Horn’s decidedly hostile citizens were going to offer her a two-hour courtesy ride to Helena.

“You think you’re going to win, don’t you?” Molly turned to see a gray-haired woman flanked by a male companion. “You think you’re going to tear our beautiful mountain apart.”

Molly flinched at the aggressiveness in the older woman’s voice. “Well, I…”

“Excuse me, please, ma’am.” Steven Young Bear appeared beside her. “This woman was recently involved in a car accident and needs immediate medical attention. I’m sure you’ll allow me to see that she gets it.” His hand on her elbow gently but firmly propelled her past the blur of faces and into the darkness. Moments later they were leaving the town of Moose Horn, and she couldn’t wait to be rid of it.

For a while they drove in silence, and then Molly said a heartfelt and humble, “Thank you for rescuing me once again. That was without a doubt the most humiliating experience of my life. When you walked up and began to speak…” Her voice faltered and she gazed at the tunnel of road illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights. “I wish I could have just disappeared.”

“I’m sorry. My intention wasn’t to make a fool out of you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Molly said. “I did that all by myself. A colleague of mine was supposed to cover this meeting but he got sick at the last minute. Another colleague asked me to go in his place and gave me the wrong file to study. This was my first real assignment, my first chance to prove myself to the firm, and I sure as hell dropped the ball.” Molly drew a deep breath and tried not to let the tears that were stinging in her eyes get the best of her. This wasn’t the end of the world, or the end of her career as a lawyer. She would explain to Skelton what had happened, and he’d understand, give her another chance.

But what if he didn’t?

“I think you should get checked out at the hospital in Bozeman,” Steven said. “Just to make sure you’re all right.”

“For the hundredth time, I’m fine. The only thing that was seriously hurt tonight was my ego.”

He said nothing to this, just drove on, while Molly slipped off her shoes, massaged her aching feet and wondered how she would ever save face after such a disastrous performance. The Jeep slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder, nosing downward just enough to illuminate the ditch. She stared at her car and felt a deepening sense of despair. “You’re lucky you weren’t seriously hurt,” he said, startling her out of her morose reverie. “Well, it’s pitch dark, I don’t have a tow rope, and you shouldn’t be driving even if I could pull your car out of the ditch.”