Chapter 9
brIAR
Sitting on the ground, I leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, basking in the shade. How rude had he been by not including me? I could’ve helped with whatever was going on. Pouting was not a good look, I knew that, but what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how to get back down to the main ranch from here, and I’d already put all of the breakfast stuff away, so here I was, pouting.
Besides, my own actions toward Cassidy were confusing myself, so why would they not have confused him even more? He had every right to leave me behind.
My horse grazed off to the side, ground tied with his saddle resting beside me. How lucky he was to not have Cassidy holding a grudge against him.
“What are you doing over here?” A voice interrupted my pity party, and I glanced up.
“Hi, again,” I replied, giving the red-headed boy a stiff smile.
“Keaton.” He pointed at himself. “This is Dallas.” He nodded at the red roan mare behind him.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you both. Briar,” I answered, pointing to myself. “And no idea.” I added, pointing at the horse I’d ridden yesterday.
“You should learn his name. Uncle Cassidy says that they recognize them,” Keaton chastised.
Chuckling to myself, I glanced over the empty field. “You don’t like me.”
“His name is Bud, in case you were wondering,” he answered shortly.
“Thanks.”
“And no, I don’t.” He crossed his arms, narrowing his gaze.
“Why not?”
“Because you were kind of rude to Uncle Cassidy.”
“It’s not—”
“Ugh, why does everyone talk to me like I’m still nine years old?” he whined, rolling his eyes.
“I didn’t think you were nine.”
His brows twitched, the freckles on his cheeks nearly disappearing beneath the red that blossomed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think about the fact that you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“I’m assuming it’s related to whatever happened this morning?” I asked and patted the grass beside me.
He ground tied his horse and plopped himself down beside me. “Yeah…”
“Cassidy told me you’d forget since you were headed to go check the cattle with your brother this morning. And he didn’t share the story with me either,” I replied, and Keaton pulled his knees up to his chest. He simply stared straight ahead, and silence filled the space between us. Whatever had happened, whatever story it was, was not going to be told to me by Keaton either.
“There’s a lot of change going on,” he eventually said, his voice quieter than it had been.
“If that ain’t the truth,” I muttered, chuckling. He had no idea, but at the same time, I bet he could feel it in the air.
“Even I knew Uncle Cassidy was a bit of a ladies’ man a few years ago despite not understanding what was so appealing about girls that would drive him to be one.” The blush on his cheeks deepened. “I think I get what is so appealing about girls now.”
A smile spread on my face. “Oh?”
His eyes shot my way. “Anyway, can you please be honest with me since no one else will? I can handle it.”
“About this morning?” I asked, and he nodded. “I was cold last night. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty skinny girl.” Leaning toward him, I bumped up against his shoulder. “Anyway, all your uncle did was help keep me warm. I promise.”
He sighed. “But Uncle Weston and Doc Tenley are married and having a baby now, and all they did was sleep,” he grumbled.
I blinked at him, confused. “I have no idea what that means.”
“Nothin’. It means nothin’.” He looked away and sighed. “Anyway, back to my original question, what are you doing over here?”
I lifted a brow and narrowed my gaze accusingly. “You don’t hate me anymore?”
“I’ll get back to you on that.” He grinned.
“I’m waiting for Cassidy since I have no idea how to get down this mountain on my own,” I answered.
“He’s gonna be awhile.”
“How do you know that?”
Keaton glanced around me as if double checking that we were alone. “I snuck over there to see what was going on.”
Grinning, I ducked my head toward him and whispered, “And what’d you see?”
“You’re not going to tell my dad or Uncle Cassidy that I followed them?”
Lifting my hand, I offered him my pinky. “Promise.”
He smiled and wrapped his own pinky around mine. “Alright, Butch rode back to Marshall, one of our ranch hands, who told my dad about the problem, and then continued on to get Cassidy. Dad found me to let me know that there was an emergency but I needed to come back to camp. Apparently, whatever it is, is a bit gross, and he didn’t want me to see it.”
“You’ve grown up here, right?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Exactly, I’ve seen it all. But this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. My mom found out Dad let me help with a bloated steer once, and she gave him a tongue lashin’ like you wouldn’t believe.” I chuckled as this kid inhaled deeply. “Anyway, apparently this cow who wasn’t supposed to be bred this year, somehow still ended up pregnant, and the baby was stuck.”
Furrowing my brows, I tipped my head. “That’s not unusual?”
“Right? So, I thought it was no big deal to sneak over and watch. When I rode on up, I was hiding behind some trees but heard Marshall mention how the calf has two heads!” he squealed.
“Two heads? Do you know how rare that is?!” I exclaimed and shot up. “I got to see this!”
“You don’t want to,” he immediately stated, grabbing my wrist. I glanced down at the kid as he turned multiple shades of green, recollection dancing behind his eyes.
Pausing, I slid back down to the grass. “I hate to ask… But why not?”
He dry heaved and swallowed heavily. “The heads… The heads are not…attached and the mama cow is… There were parts every…everywhere and…” Suddenly, he dove to the side and hurled.
WHAT?
Placing a hand on his back, I gently rubbed, hoping to offer him some comfort, but there was missing information in his story. There had to be. How else could you explain how the heads were suddenly not attached, and how the cow—
A sharp sound cracked through the air.
Both Keaton and I whipped our heads up as a plume of birds took to the sky.
“Was that…?” I hesitantly asked, startled. My veins ran hot, adrenaline spiking.
“It sounded like a gunshot,” Keaton muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his lips.
“Keaton, why was the cow and calf…” My voice trailed off, not wanting to bring things back up if he couldn’t handle it. But all the same, something was going on.
“Torn to bits? Shredded with their guts tossed everywhere?” he filled in, then dry heaved once before leaning sideways and vomiting.
I nodded, not wanting to picture the sight in my mind as I waited for him to finish throwing up.
Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “I heard Uncle Cassidy hiss something about ‘them… bad word… coyotes,’ and then all five of the guys rode away. Off toward where the rest of the herd was hanging out is my guess,” Keaton explained.
“Are you saying that this cow got separated from the herd because she was giving birth, got torn up by some coyotes, and the guys are—”
Another gunshot echoed through the air, cutting me off. That was closer than the last one.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he answered and scootched toward me.
“Keaton, how prevalent are coyotes here?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, they show up once in a while, but they normally go after rabbits or things like that. We take precautions when driving the cattle up here, but it’s also not the highest pasture, where there’s other higher on the food chain predators.”
“And this isn't the usual calving season for the cows, so Cassidy, nor any of the others, would have suspected,” I muttered.
Keaton nodded. “She wasn’t even supposed to be pregnant this year.”
“Other than the cow being…destroyed, was there any other reason to suspect coyotes?” I asked.
“Dad saw some prints in the mud, I think,” he answered.
And a sharp whistle shot through the air.
I whipped my head around as two horses with riders barreled around a grove of trees. Hooves like thunder stampeded toward us, my eyes catching sight of Cassidy. Sweat streaked down his cheeks as he slung a shotgun over his shoulder, his gaze locked onto both Keaton and me.
Cash rode up beside him, his own gun tucked in his elbow. “KEATON!” he shouted.
I ripped the boy off the ground.
“GET ON YOUR HORSE AND RUN!” Cassidy bellowed as a cloud of dust exploded behind them.
Something was chasing them.
Keaton tore his wrist from my grip and raced toward his horse. Snatching the saddle off the ground, my feet sprinted to my horse, and I threw the pad over his back as Keaton whipped his horse around.
He looked at me and paused.
“Just go!” I shouted, heaving my saddle up next. Cash shot by me, nodding a brief thank you, and then slapped Dallas on the rump. She shot off like a rocket, and the two of them galloped away as Cassidy slid his horse to a halt.
He panted, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and frenzied as I jerked the cinch tight. “What’s going on?” I cried out, snatching some mane in my hand and throwing a leg over the back of Bud.
He opened his mouth to answer as the thing that had been chasing him and Cash materialized through the dust. “Is that…?” My mouth fell open as Cassidy swung in his saddle and pointed the gun at the encroaching group of riders.
At least a dozen men on horses barreled toward us.
“GO!” Cassidy shouted again.
I dug my spurs into the side of Bud and shot off just as another shot rang out. I wanted to look back, wanted to make sure that Cassidy was fine, but doing so would’ve slowed us down.
Had he already found me?
My calves squeezed tight against the horse’s flank, dirt and sweat mingling with the stuffiness of the hot summer air. I blindly ran, trusting Bud to not trip, and steered him around whatever popped up in our path.
We darted over some brush, the roar of his hooves thundering over loosely packed dirt echoed the pounding of blood in my veins.
Another crack of a gun firing pierced the thick veil of adrenaline.
Dipping my reins to the right, Bud swerved around some trees, his nostrils flaring as his hips bunched and we whipped back to the left. Jumping over rocks, bending around flimsy branches that tore at my arms, did nothing to hinder our flee from insanity.
Gasps for air coated my lungs in gritty dust.
Sweat dripped down my neck, pooling as my shirt clung to my skin.
One more step, another bend, another leap over a log took us farther from whatever was giving chase.
And also took me farther from any place that I recognized.
Bud’s neck glistened, the bright rays of the hot sun glinting off his soaked coat. He needed to stop. My core was cramping, my legs quivering from holding to this horse’s sides for so long. I needed to stop too.
I had no idea how long we’d been running for, but maybe slowing down for a bit wouldn’t hurt. Glancing over my shoulder, I scanned my surroundings just to make sure that I was alone—that I’d outran whoever those men were—and found no one but me. Gently sitting, I slowed our pace, and the sharp exhale of oxygen from Bud’s lungs between my thighs was his unspoken appreciation.
My heart hammered like a woodpecker desperately seeking its last meal.
And as the world settled around me, a freight train of fear slammed into my stomach.
I heard nothing. There were no sounds of thundering hooves pursuing me. There were no gunshots, or whistles splintering through the air.
So, I pulled Bud to a complete halt. His ribs continued to expand and collapse rapidly, his breathing as sporadic and shallow as mine. Bud dipped his head, exhaustion filling his bones, and I shakily dismounted.
My legs crumpled out from under me, plummeting me to the forest floor. Pine trees brushed against the bright, cloudless, blue sky. The white of the aspen bark, so stark against the darkened maple leaves, closed in around me.
There was no sound of water rushing near. No shouts calling my name. No sound of anything except for the muted, crisp call of a bird answered by a chattering squirrel. The forest was alive, bugs crawling around in the dirt and up the trees. Critters scurrying about, preparing for the night that would eventually consume the warmth around me.
I was lost.