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Marybeth and Sheridan, both relieved that a confrontation had been averted.
    As they approached their house, Joe squeezed his wife’s hand in the dark and she squeezed back.
    “I know that look in her eye,” Marybeth said later, once the girls were in their rooms, Sheridan doing biology homeworkand Lucy working on another project for Mrs. Hanson.
    “What look?” Joe asked from the couch. The file the governorhad given him was in his lap. The woodstove was lit and ticking as it warmed, the television was off. He’d been waiting for his wife to change clothes after they returned from dinner. She hadn’t had time earlier. Even in her worn baggy sweats, Joe felt a zing when he saw her come down the hallway. He liked how she walked across the floor to him. His wife was blond, trim, attractive. Although she was the same age as Joe, when he looked at her he saw the image of the girl he had seen for the first time on the campus of the University of Wyoming, the girl he knew, that instant, he wanted to marry. It was the best decisionhe ever made, and he still felt that he could be exposed at any time as not being worthy of her. She brought a purpose to his life. And he was as crazy in love with her as Bud was with Missy.
    “That determined look in her eye,” she said, “combined with the sweater and the pearls.”
    Joe finally got it that Marybeth was talking about her mother.
    She said, “It’s like a knight putting on his armor or an Indian painting his face. She’s getting ready to take action.”
    “What action?” Joe asked, patiently waiting for Marybeth to finish with her theory so he could tell her about the offer.
    “I don’t know for sure, but I’m suspicious. I think we’re looking at the opening phase of another round of trading up.”
    Joe nodded. Bud Longbrake was Missy’s fourth husband. The first, Marybeth’s father, was a small-time defense attorney in Denver. The second was the owner of a real estate company. The third was a developer and state senator in Arizona who was eventually convicted of fraud. Each man had more social status than the last and a bigger bank account. Missy had each new potential husband lined up, thoroughly smitten, and locked-in before announcing her intention to divorce. As a game warden, Joe had observed predators like coyotes, eagles, and wolves for years. None of them held a candle to his mother-in-law.
    “Who do you suppose is the target?” Joe asked as Marybeth joined him on the couch. The log home was sturdy, dark, and comfortable, despite its age. Generations of ranch foremen and their families had lived there before Joe and Marybeth, and they’d taken good care of it and, like so many old ranch structures, added on. There were three bedrooms. The kitchen was bright and sunny and looked out over the Twelve Sleep River, and the living room where Joe sat—the original room of the home—had elk and deer antlers on the walls and cattle brands burned into the logs. A rarely used stone fireplace dominatedthe north wall. A family photo covered a section of the wall where, for a reason never explained, someone had fired six bullets into a log from inside. Walking through the house in the dark was an adventure. Corners of rooms were out of square and floors weren’t level from room to room. The house had character and was filled with the benevolent legacy of past cowboysand their families. Joe loved the place, despite the circumstancesof how they had come to live there.
    Marybeth said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I can come up with one man. Earl Alden.”
    “Ah,” Joe said. They called him the Earl of Lexington. Alden was a Southern multibillionaire media mogul who had recently bought the former Scarlett Ranch. He divided his time between the ranch and three other residences in Lexington, New York City, and Chamonix. The rumor was that Mrs. Alden didn’t like their ranch, and she rarely came with him. The fact that there was a Mrs. Alden had never posed