CHAPTER 33
Early birds chirp in the trees, the dusky sky attempting to lighten the land, but it fails, leaving deep, fathomless shadows stretching across the ranch, the steep craggy edges of the mountains appearing even sharper than they already are.
My steps are loud as I cross over to the barn where Rio is still restrained, the burning anger like molten lava in my veins.
I didn’t sleep. I laid beside Elena, her body tucked up against mine, staring at the ceiling as my fingers trailed soft paths down her spine.
Her presence was enough to keep the rage at bay for a few hours, but eventually I became too restless, too vengeful.
He doesn’t get to keep breathing air when he stole Chase’s and tried to take Elena’s, not once, but twice.
I’ve thought about it, about how I’m going to do it, and I’ve sent a message to the workers left here that they can take the day off.
I don’t need any witnesses to this.
The door to the barn squeaks open, and beyond the gag shoved into his mouth, Rio cries out. Didn’t bleed out then, that’s good.
My steps are purposely slow as I make my way over to him, crouching beside him as I let my eyes roll over his prone body. Wide bloodshot eyes plead with me, but if it’s mercy he wants, he’s asking the wrong guy.
“I’m not going to remove the gag,” I tell him, cocking my head. “I don’t care for anything you have to say, any pleas for mercy. I’m only here for one thing.”
The whites of his eyes grow bigger, fear widening them. He’s a man realizing his time has come to an end.
Perhaps he thought himself indestructible. But then he stepped foot onto my ranch.
Rising to stand, I head to one of the ATVs we keep parked here overnight, the keys in my hand, and I turn over the engine, the rattle and growl of it echoing through the barn and into the early morning darkness. He thrashes in his bonds, his groans and cries incoherent behind the gag.
I bring the ATV toward him, pulling to a stop close so I can lift him into the small trailer usually used for feed and hay that needs to be transferred to the many paddocks and stables.
He groans in pain as I toss him in, and I ignore it as I climb back onto the quad, revving the engine to cut off the sound.
I hear his body bouncing against the unforgiving metal of the trailer as the ATV hits all the bumps and holes in the ground, and it only takes five minutes to get to where I need to be.
I don’t say a word as I pull him from the trailer, his face now shadowed by the darkness surrounding us. His pathetic cries do nothing to deter me.
He lands on his back in front of the closed gate that separates this field from the one the last of my cattle are in, the herd grazing in the shadows of the mountains.
Now that I’ve sold some of the cattle, I can move these girls closer to the ranch and reintroduce Ralph to them with the other bulls now up the mountain.
Opening the gate, I attach it to the fence post to secure it and then let out a whistle, calling for Lettie and Koda. Wherever they are, they’ll hear it, and I need them to help me drive this cattle down.
Rio thrashes, and even though I can’t make out what he is saying, I hear it for what it is.
Mercy.
And I feel nothing.
Elena will have one less person to worry about.
My two Heelers bound toward me, tails wagging, and immediately hop into the trailer, knowing what their job is.
It isn’t new; we’ve done this same song and dance before.
Leaving him where he is, I head toward the herd, rounding them on the left so I can come up the rear and once we have a clear view of them from behind, both dogs hop from the trailer, lowering themselves toward the ground as they separate and head toward the cattle.
I keep the engine rumbling, watching them work, but it’s Koda who initiates the drive, nipping at the ankle of one of the cows to get her to move.
The herd converges into the center as Lettie herds them into a group and Koda drives them down the field, toward the open gate.
From here, I can’t see him, just a vague outline of his body moving on the ground.
No matter which way he manages to shuffle himself, he is in the direct line of the moving cattle.
Accidents happen on ranches. People are killed by cows far more often than people even realize.
So tragic.
I follow behind, unable to stop the pride I feel watching these dogs work.
I’ve had them since they were puppies, they’re intelligent, loyal and damn good at what they do.
The sound of thundering hooves fills the air, a deep rumble that shakes the ground, sending birds scattering from their perches in the trees.
Faster and faster, the herd moves, closer to their new field, their group funneling to allow them through the gate.
And all I need to do is watch, satisfaction extinguishing the rage.
Cutting the engine, I sit back, focus on the herd as my two dogs capture any stragglers, forcing them to follow through the fence and only once the last one is through, and the dogs are keeping them contained do I climb off the back of the ATV and head to the gate, unlatching it from the fence to lock it up.
With a whistle, I release the dogs from the job, allowing them to stand down and finally look at the ground.
There’s nothing but flesh and bone, blood and torn clothing.
It’s tempting to leave the body, but it’ll only attract predators that could hurt my livestock. On the other side of the ranch, I hear Ralph let out a bellow, the noise cutting through the fields toward me as I pull on the gloves to deal with the mess.