Chapter 1
Chapter One
Lincoln
A breeze heavy with the scent of churned earth and the promise of rain brushed across my face and lifted the hair of Zephyr’s mane. The unsettled lowing of anxious cattle surrounded me.
Normally, the fields were painted in the golden glow that occurred as the sun began to tuck itself behind the mountains for the night.
Instead, the vista appeared pierced by spears of angry flames.
The only thing worse than being stuck out in a rainstorm was being surrounded by cattle ready to scatter like an upturned bag of Skittles.
I rode up to where Luther was standing in his stirrups on Duke, his lips moving to indicate that he was counting. Again.
“Still short?” I asked even as I did the calculations in my head to verify his answer when it came.
“Yeah. Three.” Luther looked at me before tilting his head toward the herd. “You can stop recounting and just listen to what they’re telling us.”
I removed my hat to run my hands through my hair as a memory surfaced.
As boys we’d believed the herd held actual conversations, and we had tried to one-up each other by decoding their secret language.
As an adult I’d left childhood imagination behind.
These days all I listened for was the timbre of that lowing changing in a way which could indicate agitation.
And that was the sound now filling my ears.
I gazed over the animals who milled about each other before moving to mingle with another grouping almost as if holding those very discussions. “So, what are they saying?”
Luther leaned forward in the saddle, his brow furrowed and eyes closed . When I began to speak, he shushed me with a single finger before he opened his eyes.
“So?” I coaxed when he remained silent.
“How the hell would I know, I’m not a cow.”
“No? Then why are you so full of bullshit?” I slapped his arm with my Stetson before resettling it on my head.
He grinned. “Still, you gotta admit, it’s like the others always seem to know when one of their own is missing, right?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s impossible.”
“This weather’s not helping. They look about ready to bolt.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I just prayed it was jitters about the upcoming storm and not something more ominous.
“They probably wandered down into the gully,” Luther said, all joking aside.
I took the time to look in the direction he indicated and nodded.
“Maybe, though I’m not counting on it, especially not the pregnant one.
Not sure why they seem to choose to isolate themselves from the herd, but you can damn well bet she’ll go into labor in the dead of night.
” I looked out across the land and sighed.
“You take the gully and I’ll head toward the river. ”
“That’ll work. Let’s just hope they’ve not decided to climb back up the mountain.”
My gaze automatically lifted to where the foothills began to rise into one of the highest mountain ranges this side of the Mississippi.
The Cascades were nothing to joke about.
We’d had a lot of rain recently and water eroded soil, turning boulders that had stood as sentinels since the beginning of creation into rolling stones capable of knocking cows off their feet and crushing them like flies.
“Let’s not borrow trouble.” I didn’t bother pulling my phone from my pocket. Service was spotty at best in good weather. In a storm it sucked. “If we find them, we’ll fire shots to let the other know how many so we’re not looking for no reason.”
“And if we don’t?”
Once again, I looked toward the hills. “If we don’t find them within a couple of hours, we’ll meet up at Old Hairy and head up the mountain together.”
“Sounds like a plan.” With a tap of his heels and a slap of the reins, he turned Duke around and was soon galloping away.
An hour later, there was still no sign of the cows and dusk had long since faded.
I paused on a slight rise to dig in my saddle bag for the flashlight.
Flicking it on, I was rewarded with nothing but a clicking sound followed by a rumble of thunder—a rumble much closer than the last time I’d heard it.
Looking up, I saw the sky seemed to have dropped lower, clouds thickening to assure that the stars wouldn’t be out to shed some light on the search.
This day just kept getting better and better.
Dead batteries and clouds so swollen that if I poked my finger into one, I was pretty sure it would pop like a sausage casing on the grill.
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a crack.
The possibility of it being lightning was quickly nixed when another crack immediately followed.
I listened, hoping for a third, but when none came, I sighed.
My brother had found two of the missing trio, but I had no idea which two.
I’d really rather not continue the search in the dark, much less if the skies opened, but cows weren’t the most intelligent animals on earth. Add in the fact that one was hugely pregnant and skittish as a newborn calf, and the decision was taken out of my hands.
I urged Zephyr forward again. “Sorry, boy, seems like our long day is gonna get longer.” His snort was most likely not one of gratitude, but at least he wasn’t attempting to buck me off at another clap of thunder. A man had to take what he could get.
As often the case, it wasn’t what I saw that caught my attention ten minutes later.
It was a feeling that something was off.
“Whoa,” I muttered softly, one hand dropping to the stock of my rifle.
It was uncommon for bears to be seen down this low, but cougars were another story.
I cautiously changed directions and continued, alert for the scent of a cat.
Listening for a snarl was not worth the effort.
By the time I heard one, the cat would likely have his teeth around my throat.
The fact that Zephyr’s only reaction to the movement was to swish his tail told me he wasn’t concerned, which eased my fear somewhat.
Like anyone who’d grown up out here, I’d heard my share of stories about the history of this land and its people.
Some of those had been based on actual fact but, when you were a kid, the ones that stuck out were the ones that stretched the truth to include anything from headless horsemen and ghostly spirits to giant bi-pedal hairy beasts tromping through the mountains.
But I couldn’t recall a single one that had included any otherworldly being who sang, and I’d swear that’s what had my spidey senses tingling…
singing. The next rumble of thunder destroyed any chance of hearing anything but the storm.
When it was accompanied by the skies opening, my vision was blurred by rain pouring off the brim of my Stetson.
Within seconds, I was drenched and seriously considering heading toward the house, but responsibility kept me in the saddle.
A click of my tongue against my teeth had Zephyr moving again.
I didn’t rush him. Instead, we steadily walked forward until we came to the fence that marked the property line of the ranch.
Well, the fence that would have been marking it if not for the gaping hole I was currently staring at.
Boulders weren’t the only things uprooted by rain.
Trees fell and this one had chosen to fall onto the fence, flattening it and most likely providing the escape route for a wandering cow.
I made a mental note of the damage even as I drew Zephyr to a stop and dismounted. Losing a cow and, god forbid, her calf, would be bad enough and I wasn’t about to add Zephyr to the list. Until I knew where the barbed wire had landed, there was no way I was going to jeopardize his legs.
Choosing a fence post a good distance from the damage, I looped the reins loosely over it.
It was a risk with the storm, but one I was willing to take.
If lightning spooked Zephyr. he could yank free and head for the barn.
In that case, he’d be safe, while I’d be facing a very long walk home unless Luther came looking for me.
Of course, that might require a bit of luck as I’d wandered off the path I’d told Luther I’d follow.
In fact, I was now miles away from Old Hairy.
The name didn’t refer to a ranch hand or even a man at all for that matter.
It was a set of deep depressions in a rock that Luther and I’d discovered on a campout years ago.
We’d made a joke about how it looked like a footprint pressed into its surface.
It wouldn’t be worthy of a name at all if not for the fact that the print was almost two feet long and a foot wide.
Neither of us had been willing to state that it had been left by Sasquatch, but whatever had once stood there sure had one hell of a big foot.
“Quicker you find her, the faster you’ll get dry,” I told myself as I pulled the rifle from its scabbard and stepped carefully through the opening.
The toe of my boot caught on a loop of wire and I was very glad I’d left Zephyr behind.
It took another few minutes to push through the limbs of the fallen tree.
I stopped to listen every couple dozen steps.
The rain was still falling but I concentrated on picking out anything other than the sound of its splatter against leaves and earth.
With a start, I turned toward a sound that definitely wasn’t being sung.
It wasn’t a gentle lowing either. I’d recognize that bellow anywhere.
It was one that indicated distress. Direction decided, I quickened my pace, praying I’d not be too late.
The last thing I needed was to discover the momma lying in some gulch with a broken leg or worse after she’d tripped over some log or rock.
This land had been vacant for years and even back when it had been occupied I didn’t recall it being cultivated this far up.
It would be difficult enough to traverse in the daylight.
In the dark during a downpour, it was just plain dangerous.
Then who is moving around?
That thought had me pausing mid-step. Since when had a missing cow become a who? A who was a person. A cow was an animal.
Really? Wow, thanks for clearing that up.
I shook my head. I’d been up since before dawn—make that yesterday’s dawn—and was tired and hungry and wet. Throw in the fact I’d just been thinking about Old Hairy and it was no wonder I was hearing things.
And talking to yourself.
I draped the sling of the rifle over my shoulder to carefully traverse yet another log, this one spanning a slight depression.
Though not a long distance, the fallen tree was slick enough to have me planting my boots solidly and crossing about as fast as a snail would if going full speed.
I was no longer concerned about cougars.
The cats were probably snug and dry in some damn den laughing their feline asses off while cows and men tromped around the woods like the lesser species we were.
“Where the hell are you, girl?” I called out.
The tremendous boom that shook the ground had me ducking while a spear of lightning pierced the air far too close for comfort. The intense flash of light seared my retinas and illuminated a sight which had everything I’d ever believed brought into question.
Holy Hell!
Turned out those stories might not have stretched the truth all that far after all as I witnessed a white shape, mouth wide open, huge eyes rolling flying straight at me.