Chapter Seven
Jinx was stretched out in his bunk staring up at the water spot on the ceiling, trying to form an opinion on his feelings. He could hear the crew in the kitchen roasting each other over a game of cards. They’d asked him to play but he wasn’t in the mood for human contact.
He hadn’t seen Justice in a couple of days. Could she be dodging him?
He replayed the events of that evening in his mind, from the unexpected swim to the dance at Mav’s. Jinx wasn’t usually one to dwell on emotions, but Justice was different. There was something about her, something that made him question the walls he had built around his heart.
The way she interacted with Ilene and her genuine care and concern touched a part of him he thought was long buried. He didn't know what this feeling was, but it warmed him and made him uneasy. Should he let his guard down and allow himself to explore this new territory, or was he keeping his distance and preserving the status quo safer?
As he lay there, the sound of the crew's laughter and the popping of lids off bottles drifted in from the kitchen, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his heart. The camaraderie and noise emphasized his isolation, making him long for…what exactly? To see Justice? To kiss her?
Jinx sighed, knowing he couldn't avoid his duties despite his internal conflict or deny that Mother Nature was getting ready to unleash a storm in the area.
With reluctance, he swung his legs over the side of the bunk and sat up, resolute in the knowledge that the horses needed tending before the storm. Duty called, as it always did, but tonight, it carried the weight of unspoken questions.
He pulled on his boots, grabbed his jacket, and made his way through the bunkhouse, nodding at the crew as he passed. They glanced at him, possibly recognizing the familiar look of a man lost who wanted to be alone, and respectfully left him to his silence.
The night air was cool and filled with the scent of impending rain. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear his mind, at least for now. There would be time to sort through his feelings later, but for the moment, there were more pressing matters at hand.
The dark, ominous clouds gathered quickly, warning of the severity of the approaching storm.
By the time he reached the barn, the rain had started, and the wind had already picked up. The windmill spun, whirring loudly, so fast that the wood creaked under the strain.
He pushed through the barn doors and closed them against the rain and wind. He shook the wetness off his buckskin jacket and swiped off his hat, smacking it against his thigh.
Movement in the back of the barn drew his attention. Keller Abbott was tending to the horses.
“Looks like Mother Nature is about to unleash,” Jinx said as Keller greeted him.
“I went ahead and brought the horses in. They’re all tucked in for the night.”
“I’m off to check the fences before the storm hits. The north side needs a little extra attention, so I'll reinforce it to get it through the high winds." Jinx adjusted his hat and headed toward the side door.
“Misdemeanor isn’t secured,” Keller said as a reminder. “He’s out in the bullpen and he’s fit to be tied.”
“He loves storms,” Jinx said sarcastically. “I’ll take care of him.”
Jinx grabbed a flashlight and the items needed to secure the fence and stepped out into the tumultuous night.
The sky was dark and foreboding, and rain pelted the ground, shattering the stillness of the night. Gusts of wind swept through the trees, rattling the leaves, and Jinx lifted the collar of his jacket higher around his ears. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with that inexplicable energy that often preceded a storm.
Inside the bullpen, Misdemeanor clawed the ground, and his nostrils flared. The beast didn’t like the weather change and showed it in his restless behavior.
“Come on, Misdemeanor. I’ve got work to do. Let’s get you all tucked in,” Jinx lifted the door on the bullpen. The bull hesitated. “Go on, buddy. You’ll like it much better inside.”
After the first hesitation to show that he wasn’t submissive, he finally stepped inside the barn. Jinx latched the gate and checked to make sure it was secure then he went to reinforce the fence.
As the winds intensified, a screech echoed in the distance, growing louder and more assertive. Jinx took a walk through the pasture, shining his flashlight around. The sky fractured with a brilliant streak of lightning that illuminated the area for a split second before plunging it back into darkness.
He knelt on the damp grass next to the fence, pulling his hat low on his forehead to keep the rain off his face. Within minutes his jeans were soaked.
Each crack of thunder and flash of lightning sounded like applause, a confirmation that something magnificent was about to happen.
Well, he didn’t want to be in the middle of it. The ranch was right in the line of powerful, destructive winds.
He started pounding the temporary metal clamps into place when he heard a loud bang behind him. He peered through the large drops of rain and the darkness, but he couldn’t see anything, even with the aid of the flashlight that kept flickering. He banged it against the heel of his hand. Still nothing. He was alone.
He finished the fence, and just as he stood, the ground vibrated under his feet. Then a thunderous pounding reached his ears through the rain pelting off the metal roof of the barn.
Something was out of place.
He examined the proximity and feathered the light over the bullpen. He caught a flash of a dark silhouette. His gut tightened when he saw Misdemeanor five feet away, creating a steam cloud from his heavy breathing. More thunder clapped the sky, and Misdemeanor made a distinct growl-like sound that made Jinx’s hair stand.
“It’s okay, big fella. Go back to the barn.” Jinx dropped the toolbox next to his feet, not taking his focus off the bull. He quickly thought of a safe exit. Running would only create more of a problem, but one loud boom and Misdemeanor would attack.
When the bull clawed the ground and snorted, Jinx knew he had to make a move. He walked backward a few paces, and once he was close to the fence, he jumped onto the rail to dive over it, but he wasn’t quick enough. Misdemeanor charged and nailed him in the leg, sending Jinx flying up in the air and coming down hard on the other side of the fence.
At first, he thought he’d escaped being hurt and tried pushing himself to his knees to get out of the mud puddle but a pain warned him that he hadn’t been as lucky as thought. He examined his leg and squinted. His jeans were ripped and he was bleeding from a deep laceration. Misdemeanor must have clipped him with the tip of his horn.
Blood seeped from the wound. He ripped some material from his shirt and tied it around his thigh to help slow the blood loss. But the quicker his heart beat, the more blood that came- from the wound.
He tried moving, but a throbbing pain kept him still. He wasn’t sure he could move.
“Keller!” he yelled, but the wind tossed his cry for help back into his face.
A tingly sensation embedded itself into his muscles and his adrenaline rush was fading. The pain increased. His body was going into shock.
With a heavy sigh, he sank into the puddle, feeling the rain dance on his face. The droplets mingled with shadows, creating a mysterious haze.
He stared up at the sky, but the rain was falling too heavily for him to see anything. He closed his eyes. He had to survive. His sister needed him, and so did Justice. But did she?
He let out a soft chuckle, an unusual response for such a dire moment. It struck him as ironic that just when he found someone he cared about, he was faced with a life-threatening injury.
Jinx had no clue how long he’d been lying there, in the cold dirt, before he heard someone call his name through a tunnel. Someone had found him.
*****
Pok stood in the shadows.
Satisfaction overcame him as he watched the scene before him. Jinx was flung into the dirt like a cloth doll. Jinx was tough but not against the bull.
Jinx was hurt. His moans sounded deep and painful, gratifying.
Pok trembled in excitement. He had a thought. He should go to the cowboy and save his life and become a hero. Then all the hands, the crew, and the Roses would treat him like royalty. Freedom would see him in a different light, marry him, and they’d live happily ever after.
He liked that idea.
But the desire to end Jinx was much stronger than becoming a hero.
Pok smiled, feeling an adrenaline rush like he’d never felt before. He cursed the darkness because he wanted to see Jinx’s expression when he saw “the light”. There was power in watching someone die. An unexplainable sense of godliness. Jinx deserved to die in the mud like a stray dog with rabies.
To Pok, Jinx was lower than a dog.
Pok couldn’t see a damn thing. He relied on the strikes of lightning as the only source of light.
Was Jinx dead?
He was quiet.
Wanting to get closer because his curiosity was killing him, Pok took a step toward the fence. Anticipation grew in him, taking logic hostage. He didn’t care. He needed to see what he’d done.
“Jinx!”
The roaring voice sent Pok back into his hiding place right before Keller came running to Jinx’s aid.
Would it be too late?
Angrily, Pok quietly took several backward steps. Before anyone saw him, he retraced the steps through the darkness.