Chapter 43
“Alittle further,” I say, bringing Copper to a halt and sliding down to the slushy ground.
It’s pitch outside, and even with the flashlights, we can only see a few feet in front of us.
Peter is up ahead about two feet, and Dylan hangs back, her eyes watching over her shoulder into the pitch.
“Hey,” I call out to her, “pretty. Focus.”
“Do you flirt with all the ranch hands?” Dylan slips from her saddle. She’s rigid, and it’s clear that she’s nervous but trying to hide it.
“Yes,” Peter says before I can get out the no, and I roll my eyes.
“He likes to lie,” I smirk at her and pull out the bolt cutters from the side pocket.
“Out of the two of you, he looks like an angel.” Dylan walks around me in wide steps through the melting snow and counts her line down three posts. “This one.”
“Are you sure?” I ask her, nothing can go wrong up here, we only have one shot at this, and the second we see flames, we have to be ready to move.
“I’ve counted this line about two hundred times in the last month,” she says. “And I might be pretty, but I’m also smart.”
“That sounded like an insult.” I clutch my chest painfully.
“It was,” she laughs, turning to Peter, who looks like he’s ready to shit his pants.
“I’m offended, beauty queen.” I keep my smile light as she shines her flashlight on the connection of wires and wood.
“At least I don’t look like a rodeo clown,” she claps back with venom, and Peter finally starts to laugh. His hands shake around the bolt cutters, and it’s making him clumsy with it all.
“Shut up, Pete.” I frown, kicking snow at him.
“I could cut that fence faster with my eyes closed,” Dylan quips, and Peter’s more than willing to trade her places.
“With those hands?” I tease. “Cute.”
“Oh, Rodeo, don’t get me started now. This is not the time.” She moves faster than Peter, but I hate to be outshone. I grab the second pair from the other pocket.
“Race you,” I whisper-shout, and it’s on. It’s like she’s been waiting her whole life for the moment. She moves quick, faster than I’ve ever seen anyone go, and she manages to get three whole posts done before I catch up.
“Nice try,” she whispers before standing up straight.
“This is his fault,” I toss my cutters to Peter, who fumbles them awkwardly. He goes to open his mouth to argue ‘how’, but a crack echoes through the air, and the sky lights up in a cloud of smoke and flame.
“That’s our signal,” I say, and Peter cuts the last row faster.
Dylan and I are on our horses, pushing through the snow as fast as we can.
She instantly proves any thought anyone has about her looks in comparison to her skill because she surges ahead, looping around a chunk of cattle with Twelve Acres tags like she could do it in her sleep.
What’s even more fascinating is that Kelpie doesn’t protest for a second, I’ve never seen that horse allow anyone to ride it outside Bode. It’s hilariously impressive, and Ford would fall over dead if he saw it with his own eyes.
I take the opposite side with Peter on my hind as we collect what must be eighty to ninety cattle.
Dylan weaves her way back and forth on her side, pushing the cattle towards Peter and me and through the next pasture.
Her brow furrows when she glances back, and I catch the couple of stragglers wandering away from us, pushing between the trees back towards Twelve Acres.
“Don’t,” I hiss across the field, knowing what she’s going to do because I would do it myself.
Dylan smirks before taking off back towards the cut fence line.
“Damnit! Pete moves to the other side, push them though!”
“Where are you going?” he asks, panicked as he shifts his horse to the right.
Copper brays beneath me when I tug his reins back to slow us down.
“Just get the cattle!” Kicking my heels into the horse’s side, I take off after Dylan.
By the time I get to the treeline, the stragglers are already running back towards the herd, and the sound of Kelpie huffing as Dylan rides back through the trees behind us.
“I had it.” She raises a brow.
“You’re reckless,” I breathe, and suddenly feel like Bode when I give him shit.
Dylan rolls her eyes. “You would have done the same thing.”
Peter is working faster than I’ve ever seen him move, wrapping the posts with the fences, and by the time we slip through, he’s got the last one ready to be sealed. I look back at him as he climbs on his horse and back to Dylan to remind her who’s the outsider here.
“I would have, doesn’t mean it’s always the right thing to do.” I try to argue, but the point is moot when I see multiple flashlight beams flickering through the tree branches. Dylan’s lips part to argue, but I shake my head. “Save it. We gotta go.”
She glances over her shoulder, cursing to herself as she nods and takes off towards Whiskey River. The sounds of voices yelling and cursing fill the night, and I don’t wait around long enough to meet the owners as I take off on Copper, following Dylan back to the ranch.