by Lara Lacombe
They ate in companionable silence, the faint sounds of birdsong drifting in through the partially open window. Isabel could feel the weight of Maria’s gaze as the older woman studied the two of them, clearly speculating as to the nature of things. There would be questions later, of that Isabel was certain. But at least Maria seemed content to wait to ask them until they were alone again.
Wyatt cleaned his plate quickly. Isabel tilted her head back for the last sip of coffee and then set the cup on the table.
“Are you still willing to go back to the site with me?” Maybe he’d changed his mind last night. After witnessing the argument between her and Diego and finding out she supported drilling on the land, Isabel wouldn’t really blame Wyatt if he wanted to put some distance between him and her family.
“Absolutely.” He pushed his chair back, got to his feet and grabbed both his empty plate and her own.
Maria intercepted him before he made it to the sink. “Go.” She shooed them both out of the kitchen.
Wyatt leaned down to give the older woman a hug. “Thank you for your hospitality. I hope I get to see you again soon.”
Maria wrapped her arms around his waist, the top of her head coming to the level of his sternum. “You are always welcome here. And I think you’ll return sooner than you expect.” Still folded in Wyatt’s embrace, she turned her head to look at Isabel. Her expression was knowing, as though she’d already seen the future.
Isabel glanced away, her cheeks growing hot.
“I hope you’re right.” From the corner of her eye, Isabel saw Wyatt release Maria with a smile. “Until then, take care.”
“You, too, mijo,” Maria replied. She reached up with one hand to gently pat his cheek.
Isabel’s heart warmed at the sight. There was such love between the two of them; there always had been. It was just another element of Wyatt’s personality. Women of all ages seemed drawn to him.
Wyatt turned to Isabel. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Let’s saddle up.”
It was a short walk to the barn and, as they were both experienced riders, it didn’t take them long to get everything in place for the ride. Both Miel and Wyatt’s horse, Ajax, seemed happy to head out into the sunshine. Isabel closed her eyes as the warmth spread across her shoulders, relaxing muscles she hadn’t realized were tense.
“Beautiful day,” Wyatt observed.
She inhaled deeply, enjoying the green scent of grass, the rich, earthy tang of fresh manure and the sharp twinge of sage. It was a perfume unlike any other, the aroma unique to the ranch. “Yes, it is.”
They stuck to a walking pace—no need to rush on this pretty morning. The wind tugged at her hat, but the random gusts weren’t strong enough to knock it off her head. Isabel was surprised at how much she was enjoying herself. Maybe it was the lack of sleep last night, or perhaps it was the look Maria had given her in the kitchen; either way, Isabel decided to take advantage of their solitude.
“How’s your grandfather?” Wyatt’s parents had abandoned him when he was young, and he’d been raised by his grandfather. Isabel had met him a couple of times when Maria had insisted the older man join them for a meal. He’d been a quiet but pleasant man, unfailingly polite. She hoped he was still alive—she hated the thought of Wyatt being without any family.
“He’s fine,” Wyatt said. “He moves a lot slower these days, but his spirits are still high. I try to visit at least once a week.”
“I’m sure he appreciates that.”
“It’s good for both of us.” He gave her a smile that made her heart melt a little. “Now it’s my turn for a question. How long have you been back?”
“A few months. I finished my internship in large animal medicine and came back here.”
“I was surprised to see you yesterday. I thought you wanted to open your own practice in Houston.”
“I did,” she admitted. “But the more time I spent away from the ranch, the more I realized how much I missed it. Growing up here, I couldn’t wait to get away. But once I did, I realized how special this place is.”
“I hear that,” Wyatt said. “I did some of my training in Arizona. Several of my classmates were surprised that I wanted to work in Big Bend.”
“Oh? Is it an unpopular choice?”
“It’s no Yellowstone or Grand Canyon,” Wyatt said. “Big Bend is one of the most overlooked parks, from a visitation perspective. Life moves a bit slower out here as a consequence.” He shrugged. “Not everyone likes that.”
“But you do.”
He was quiet a moment, considering her words. “My life is here. It has been since I was a kid. There’s something to be said for having friends and family nearby.”
She nodded. “That’s what called me home, too. Now it’s hard to imagine why I wanted to be elsewhere.”
“You have a support system here. Family is everything.”
She looked at him. He seemed to want to say more and, before she knew it, she blurted out, “Do you ever think about starting your own family?” It was a question that weighed heavily on her own mind at times. She loved her brother and Maria and Abuelo. She loved the ranch. But Wyatt was right—not everyone was cut out for this kind of life.
If she’d stayed in a city, set up her own practice there, it would have been much easier to find someone. Out here with the nearest town over fifty miles away? It was a little harder. There wasn’t exactly a glut of men her age who were interested in a relationship. Sometimes Isabel lay awake at night, wondering if she’d made a mistake by coming back. She wanted to help preserve the family ranch, but what if she was so wrapped up in the present she neglected her own future?
“Yeah.” The word came out on a sigh. “I do. But it’s not easy to meet people out here.”
“You’ve noticed that, too?” she teased.
He smiled. “You’ve only been back a few months. Already getting twitchy?”
Isabel shrugged. “Just thinking about the future.”
“I get it. I’m kicking around a few ideas myself.”
“Like what?” She was curious to hear what he was thinking. As best as she could tell, most of the people she and Diego had gone to school with had left the area. They seemed to be the lone holdouts.
“Well...once my grandfather is gone, I might put in for a transfer. Try to move to a spot that’s closer to a city. I figure that would make it easier to have more of a personal life.”
The thought of Wyatt having a relationship with anyone triggered a flare of green fire in her chest. Isabel quickly quashed the spurt of jealousy—she had no claim over him. Never had. And there was certainly no connection between them now.
Still, the thought of him leaving the area was upsetting. Wyatt had always been a part of the collage of people and places that she considered “home.” The realization that he might not always be around created a small cold spot in her heart.
She was saved from having to reply by their arrival at the spot of yesterday’s discovery. “Let’s leave the horses over there.” She pointed to a large bush several yards away. “If there are any toxic plants in the area, I don’t want them exposed.”
“Good plan,” Wyatt said. They dismounted, leaving Ajax and Miel to keep each other company as they walked back to the slope where she’d found the cattle.
Isabel stood at the rim of the shallow depression, scanning the ground. The red dirt still bore the marks of yesterday’s activity. A few plants grew in scraggly clumps nearby, but nothing like the density that would be needed to take down three large animals.
She glanced over and saw Wyatt frowning. “See anything?”
He shook his head. “Not really. There is some Johnson grass here—” he pointed to one spot, then another “—but wouldn’t it take a large dose of cyanide to kill three cattle?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “They’re used to con
suming a certain amount as a normal part of grazing. For three animals to drop dead like that means they ingested a large amount of the toxin in a short period of time.” She looked around, eyeing the small bushes that dotted the ground. “Are any of those toxic?”
Wyatt followed her gaze. “No.”
“Well, they had to pick up the poison from somewhere.” Isabel started walking, scanning the ground as she moved in a widening circle around the incline. “Cyanide doesn’t just appear from thin air.”
“True,” Wyatt said. “I hate to be a downer, but I don’t see anything out here that would be toxic to cattle.”
Isabel opened her mouth to respond but a scattering of hay in the dirt caught her eye. That was odd—they didn’t drop hay bales this close to the border fence with the park, as they didn’t want to draw deer and other grazers onto the ranch. Why was there a collection of it here?
She followed the bits of hay for several yards until she came to a spot that boasted a small pile of the golden strands. “Where did this come from?”
A dull metal object was in the center of the mound. “What the hell?” she muttered. She knelt to study it further.
“Find something?” Wyatt called.
“Maybe,” she replied. She brushed some of the hay aside to find a metal stake buried in the ground with a few inches of hollow tube exposed. She’d never seen anything like it before, and it definitely didn’t belong there. She reached out to clear more of the dirt and hay away with one hand, wanting to expose the rest of this strange device.
Wyatt’s boots made a crunching sound in the grass as he walked over. “Whatcha got?”
“Some kind of weird metal tube,” she said, brushing at the dirt.
“What?” He approached from the opposite side, casting the tube in shadow as he loomed overhead. “Get back!”
Isabel froze, the note of alarm in his voice making her heart thump hard. She glanced up to find him staring down at her in shock, his face unnaturally pale. He reached out with his hand, clearly trying to ward her away from her discovery. “Isabel, I’m serious. Get away from that. Right now.”
Alarmed by his reaction, she leaned back on her heels and put a hand on the ground for balance. But just as she began to rise, a gust of wind sent a spray of hay and dirt into her face.
Between one breath and the next, Isabel’s eyes felt like they’d caught fire. She gasped in pain, instinctively reaching up to rub her eyes. Her mouth flooded with saliva, choking her. Tears streamed down her cheeks but brought no relief to the burning tissue. She rocked forward onto her knees, spitting into the dirt so she could breathe.
Her heart thundered in her ears, but she heard Wyatt’s voice over the din. He cursed loudly then yelled her name. Isabel squinted up through swollen lids, her vision blurry as she tried to find him. But she couldn’t see him, couldn’t even speak thanks to a new rush of saliva filling her mouth.
A tight band wrapped around her chest, making it hard to breathe. She felt the wind on her face and realized she was moving, but little else. Her senses were haywire and everything seemed to be happening far away.
“Hold on,” Wyatt yelled into her ear. “We’re almost there.”
She landed hard on her bottom. A split second later, a flood of cold water poured over her face, making her gasp and sputter even more. Had he emptied his canteen on her? What was happening?
“Open your eyes,” Wyatt commanded.
Isabel tried, but the lids wouldn’t part very far.
Wyatt used his fingers to pry them open and then flushed them with more water. The cool liquid brought some measure of relief, but the water flooding into her nose and mouth made her feel like she was drowning.
She tried to speak, the words scraping her throat like razor blades. “What was that?”
“An M44 trap.” He spoke quickly, his tone urgent. His hands fumbled at her belt, unclipping her walkie-talkie. “Diego, come in.”
She heard a burst of static then her brother’s voice. “Wyatt? Is that you?”
“We’ve had an accident. Call 9-1-1. Tell them we have a case of cyanide poisoning and we need a helicopter right away.”
“What happened?”
Isabel struggled to breathe as Wyatt helped her to stand. Fear licked down her spine even as her clinician’s mind clicked into gear. Cyanide. The poison kept her body from using oxygen—no wonder she was so desperate for air.
“There’s no time,” he said. “We’re headed back to the ranch house. Have the helicopter land nearby.”
She didn’t hear her brother’s reply. Her head was pounding, the pain all-encompassing.
“Okay, I need you to help me out.” It took her a second to realize Wyatt was talking to her. She reached out blindly, made contact with the fabric of his shirt. Gripping it tightly, she had to turn her head and spit again.
Wyatt wrapped a large hand around her wrist. The contact steadied her, made her feel less alone. “Let’s get you on your horse.”
There was no way she could ride by herself. “I can’t—” Her throat closed up, trapping the words. She coughed, but it didn’t help.
“I know,” he said, correctly interpreting her protest. “Just trust me.”
He released her wrist, shifted away for a second. Something large moved in front of her and Wyatt placed her hands on Miel’s saddle. “Grip here,” he said. “As tight as you can.”
She tried to cooperate, but she was so focused on drawing air into her lungs it was hard to do anything else. Wyatt boosted her up into the saddle. Her stomach roiled at the sudden change in position. “Hang on. Just for a second.”
She heard the creak of leather nearby. Then she felt Wyatt’s hands on her again, pulling her off her horse and onto his own. She was helpless, still unable to open her eyes beyond slits, her mind trapped by the throbbing in her head and the constant struggle for breath. “There you go,” he said calmly, settling her in front of him. “We need to make time, so hold on as best as you can.”
Before she could try to reply, he wrapped one arm around her waist and kicked his mount into a gallop. Overwhelmed by pain, frightened out of her mind, Isabel could do little more than bounce along like a sack of potatoes.
“You’re going to be okay.” Wyatt yelled to be heard over the rush of wind and the sound of the horse’s hooves striking the ground. His arm tightened around her, his body cradling her from behind as he rushed her home. “Don’t worry—it’s going to be fine.” He was trying to be strong for her. But no amount of false bravado could mask the fear in his voice.
Isabel wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t stop thinking about those three cattle, lying dead in the dirt. How long had it taken them to succumb?
And how much time did she have until she shared their fate?
* * *
Wyatt paced the hallway outside Isabel’s hospital room, hoping the constant movement would help burn off the adrenaline that was still pulsing through his body.
How had this happened? One minute, he and Isabel had been looking for suspicious plants. The next thing he knew, he was galloping back to the ranch house with Isabel in his arms, her body growing increasingly limp against his chest.
They’d made it back in record time thanks to Ajax’s sure-footedness. Diego had beaten them to the house, and was standing outside waiting for them. He’d helped Wyatt get Isabel to the ground, peppering him with a million and one questions that Wyatt couldn’t answer.
Fortunately, the medevac had arrived quickly.
Wyatt ran a hand through his hair, dislodging some of the dirt and grit the rotor wash had kicked into the air as the chopper had landed. He’d tried to step back so Diego could ride with Isabel to the hospital, but she’d refused to release his hand. So he’d climbed in after her, finding a seat by her feet and trying his best to stay out of the way as the medics attended to her.
They hadn’t asked too many questions. He’d told them about the cyanide trap and they’d quickly started an IV line in her arm, adding some bright red liquid to the bag of saline. Within a few minutes, Isabel’s body had started to relax, her breathing falling into a more normal pattern. By the time they landed at the medical center in Alpine, some ninety miles away, she was no longer gasping for air.
Wyatt hadn’t had any time alone with her since they’d arrived at the hospital. As soon as the helicopter’s landing gear had touched the roof, a team of people in scrubs had rushed over and pulled Isabel’s gurney free from the body of the chopper. They’d set off for the door at a run and Wyatt had barely been able to keep up as they’d whisked her to the emergency room.
Things were a little calmer now. Once the medical team had determined she was stable, she’d been transferred to a room. A nurse was in there now, checking her vital signs to make sure she didn’t have a setback.
Diego, Jose and Maria were all on their way. Wyatt had called with updates on Isabel’s condition, wanting them to know she was recovering. He knew they were still panicked, of course. Truth be told, so was he. Seeing her with his own eyes didn’t alleviate all his worry.
His mind kept going back to the last moment she’d been okay, before the wind had picked up and carried the poison right into her face. Seeing her kneeling in the dirt, inches away from that deadly trap, had taken years off his life. Even now, his stomach heaved at the memory.
Where had it come from? M44 traps were generally used to control coyote or feral dog populations. They were designed to deliver a blast of cyanide into the mouth of an animal that tugged on the attached bait. They were effective but not selective, as many dog owners had discovered over the years. In recent months, public outcry had grown to the point the USDA was considering no longer using the traps.
To Wyatt’s knowledge, no such devices had been deployed in Big Bend National Park. And since Isabel hadn’t immediately recognized it for what it was, he was willing to bet the Cruz Ranch didn’t use them, either.
