by Leigh Bale
Again, her insight startled him. He hadn’t expected the new forest ranger to be so reasonable. And that made him even more suspicious that she might have hidden motives.
“Okay.” He answered slowly, afraid he might have to defer to her judgment on this topic. After all, what did he really know about vegetation and wild animals? As a medical doctor, he’d studied plenty of science and biology. He was definitely smart enough to see through a shell game. But he knew almost nothing about ecosystems, watersheds, wildlife and grazing needs.
What if there was something wrong? And what if Lyn blamed the problems on the wild horses? Cade could write his senators on behalf of the Shoshone Tribe, but the BLM had the law on their side. They’d do whatever they deemed was right.
“And if we don’t find anything wrong, will you leave the mustangs alone?” He didn’t want the bighorn sheep and other wildlife to suffer, but neither did he want her to move the horses if they were innocent.
“Absolutely.”
But in her eyes, he saw doubt. And a bit of regret. And that gave him a shivery foreboding. “You seem skeptical.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I have a master’s degree in ecology, and I do this job for a living, Cade. I’ve seen this situation before. The problems aren’t always easy to address, but the cause seems to be consistent in these circumstances.”
In other words, she was almost certain she’d find problems, which would require her to act against the horses.
“Are you sure you can be objective toward the mustangs?” he asked, feeling a bit cynical.
She nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, yes. Remember I’m here to protect all the wild animals, including the mustangs. I don’t have the luxury of preferring one animal over another. I’m a conservationist, not a preservationist. All of these animals are important to the area.”
Cade wanted to believe her. He really did. But there’d been trouble in the past, and he’d grown accustomed to distrusting government employees. But not at the expense of the desert bighorn sheep. And the mule deer. And many other species he couldn’t name right now.
No doubt Lyn could name them all.
“Okay, I can accept that.” As he said the words, he hoped he meant them. For now, he’d wait until Friday and see what happened from there. He’d know soon enough if the horses were the problem. And then he’d do everything in his power to help save them.
As he left Lyn’s office, he couldn’t help feeling a bit on edge. As if he’d been told he had a large lump in his throat that needed a biopsy to determine if it was malignant or benign. The unknown made him nervous.
He was absolutely certain of one thing. If Lyn Warner had ulterior motives, he’d ferret them out. Just as she must trust him to provide the best medical care for her daughter, Cade must also trust Lyn to do what was right for the wild horses.
And there lay the crux of the problem. Neither of them fully trusted each other. At least, not yet.
Chapter Four
Friday morning, Lyn watched as Cade Baldwin stepped out onto the front porch of his white frame house. She tried to smile as she parked her green Forest Service truck and horse trailer at the side of his wide, graveled driveway.
He stood waiting as she got out of the truck. Dressed in cowboy boots and tight blue jeans, he wore a gray chambray shirt that embraced his muscled arms and the width of his shoulders like a fitted sheet of fine linen. Even from this distance, she caught the flash of his white teeth as he squinted against the morning sun. He tugged a battered hat low across his forehead, shadowing his eyes. He stared back, taking in her ranger uniform, a deep frown creasing the corners of his full lips.
With a couple flips of her hands, she pulled her long, blond hair back into a ponytail and walked toward him. A blue-coated Australian cow dog stood beside Cade, panting and wagging his tail happily. Lyn wasn’t surprised when the dog didn’t rush her. Real cow dogs were highly trained, calm and obedient. This one seemed especially well behaved.
“Good morning, Cade,” Lyn called.
“Morning.” A monotone reply. No lilt in his voice.
The greeting seemed to signal the dog. He ran to meet her, snuffling at her legs. She bent down and held out a hand, palm up, waiting for the animal to sniff her skin before she petted and scratched his ears.
“Hi, fella. You got a name?”
“Gus,” Cade supplied in a rather brusque tone.
She glanced at Cade’s forearms and hands where a myriad of white scars blemished his golden skin. Like he’d been sliced repeatedly with a knife. Noticing her gaze, he quickly rolled his sleeves down, hiding his arms from view.
She stepped back from the dog, trying to be as pleasant as possible. After all, Cade was the one who’d asked to join her, not the other way around. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, Flash is over here.” He walked toward the corral, moving with the slow grace of a man who knew his place in the world and wasn’t afraid to do what had to be done.
A bay gelding stood with his head over the rail fence, ears pricked forward with interest. A handsome mustang.
While Cade carried his saddle to put inside the back of Lyn’s horse trailer, she glanced around his yard. Yellow tulips bloomed along the side of the two-story house, and there wasn’t a weed in sight. Tall, straight fences showed good repair, the house wearing a fresh coat of paint. She could find no fault with its upkeep.
“You have a beautiful place here. A very large house,” Lyn remarked.
“Thank you.”
She glanced at the white wraparound porch and chained swing that swayed gently in the breeze. For just a moment, she imagined herself sitting there in the evening with a glass of lemonade in her hand. She envisioned Kristen running across the green lawn and laughing. No limp. No holes in their hearts. A happy family once more.
Lyn studied the upper floor where three wide windows and shutters trimmed with blue paint gazed down at her. A cheery place she longed to explore. “How many bedrooms do you have?”
Cade opened the corral gate and led Flash toward the horse trailer. “Three downstairs and five up. There’s also three baths, a large kitchen, mudroom and living room with a rock fireplace. The guesthouse out back has three more bedrooms and another full bath. Are you in the market?”
She blinked. “No, I was just curious.”
“Good, because I’d never sell this place. I just finished renovating the downstairs bathroom, complete with a walk-in shower and jetted tub. The work is good therapy.”
“Therapy for what?”
He frowned as though he’d confided too much. “I just like to stay busy.”
Hmm. She could read a lot in what he didn’t say. Rob had fought in the Gulf War. He’d liked to stay busy, too. It helped him forget a lot of trauma, and Lyn wondered if it was the same for Cade. Though she’d never been to war, she understood the feeling. “What’s the guesthouse for?”
“Years ago, it used to be a bunkhouse filled with wranglers who helped work the ranch. Now it just sits empty.”
“And you live here all alone?”
“Yep.”
She hurried to open the door and lower the ramp to the trailer. “Where’s your family?”
He hesitated, a hint of sadness in his expressive voice. “I have a cousin living back east, but the rest are all gone now. My grandfather died last spring and willed me what’s left of the ranch. Over the years, he’d sold off pieces of it here and there.”
No wonder Cade would never sell. The ranch must have a lot of sentimental value for him. “I’m sorry to hear of your loss.”
Her Appaloosa mare stood inside the trailer, and Flash neighed a low greeting and waved his head. The other horse nickered in return, and Flash walked right up the ramp without any urging. Cade closed the metal door behind him.
L
yn glanced at Gus, who hadn’t left her side. “Your dog seems pretty calm. Would he like to go with us?”
Cade nodded. “That’s thoughtful of you. He takes my commands and does well up on the mountain. He won’t chase any wildlife, unless I ask him to.”
That was good enough for Lyn. Without a word, she opened the door and gave a shrill whistle. “Come, Gus!”
The dog’s ears pricked forward, and he stared at the woman for several moments as though assessing her. She wasn’t his master, after all, but she’d worked with cow dogs when she’d been a kid on her parents’ ranch. The dog decided she was okay and raced to the door, hopping up inside.
Pulling his cowboy hat off his head, Cade wiped his brow. “Looks like he minds you better than he does me.”
Lyn chuckled as she got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. She waited for Cade to join her and snap on his seat belt. With Gus sitting between them, panting, Lyn put the truck in gear and pulled out of the yard.
They didn’t speak as she took the dirt road leading up to the McClellan Mountains. The desert rolled out before them, beautiful with its austere sage and golden-brown hues. She pointed at a rocky outcropping bedecked by blue lupine and mountain sunflowers. “Isn’t that pretty? Spring is finally here.”
Cade blinked in confusion, then nodded. “I’ve been up this road zillions of times, but never noticed any flowers before.”
She kept her gaze in front of her, navigating the twisty turns with ease. “I suppose war and medical school are a big distraction. It’s hard to stop our busy lives long enough to notice the beautiful world we live in.”
He didn’t comment. As they climbed in elevation, the vegetation became more scrubby. A trail of PJ’s hugged the dirt road leading into the canyon. Silver-colored rocks and gravel littered the vast hills with clear views of the mountains flowing beyond the horizon. Desolate or not, Lyn loved this place already. When she went up into the mountains like this, she could almost forget her troubles for a short time.
“Isn’t the desert beautiful?” she asked, not necessarily looking for an answer.
“I think so,” he said, then clamped his mouth shut as though he regretted speaking.
At the mouth of Barton’s Canyon, Lyn pulled the truck over to a flat area and killed the motor. “We’ll ride the rest of the way from here on horseback.”
“Whatever you say.”
They unloaded their horses. A quiet camaraderie settled between them as they worked. Without her asking, the doctor lifted her blanket and saddle onto the back of her horse. Lyn could easily do the chore, but Cade’s thoughtfulness impressed her and she thanked him. Gus lazed patiently beneath the wide spread of a cottonwood, not at all bothered by the waiting.
“This is Applejack.” Lyn patted the neck of her white Appaloosa mare.
“Is that a Forest Service horse or your own?” Cade eyed the government brand on the horse’s rump.
“Forest Service. I don’t own a horse anymore, although Kristen keeps begging me to buy her one.” Lyn drew in a deep breath and let it go. “Most kids want a puppy, but not my Kristen. She wants a horse—as if she could ever ride.”
“Why can’t she ride?”
She waited for Apple to exhale before tightening the cinch on her saddle. “I think you know the answer to that. Kristen can barely walk, let alone ride horses. I think she wants one because her dad loved them so much. She wants to play soccer and girls’ basketball, too.”
He pulled the reins up over the gelding’s head and stepped up onto his horse. “So let her. There’s no reason she can’t do all those activities.”
Everything within Lyn rebelled, and she looked at him as if he’d gone daft. “No, I don’t want her falling off a horse or getting knocked down by an angry teammate. She doesn’t move very fast, and she’s been hurt enough.”
They both had. If only they could start to heal now. But it seemed an impossible goal, always out of reach. Everything was so difficult. The hospital and doctor visits, the continuous pile of medical bills, shuttling Kristen back and forth from school, the girl’s constant sullen attitude. Everything had become an exhausting task. And if losing Rob wasn’t bad enough, it now seemed there was a wide gulf of anger between mother and daughter. And Lyn didn’t know how to breach the void.
“Don’t you think Kristen should decide what’s too difficult for her to do?” Cade asked. “Maybe she figures getting hurt is worth it to try and succeed at new things. Kids need to try different activities to help build their confidence.”
Lyn’s mouth hardened. This man didn’t know her or her daughter. Not really. One doctor’s visit didn’t give him the right to tell her how to raise her own child. “I’m her mother. I know what’s best for her.”
She ignored his deep frown and turned her back on him as she adjusted the halter over Apple’s muzzle. As she climbed into the saddle, she hoped Cade would let the subject drop.
“What if I help Kristen?” he persisted. “I’m pretty good with horses and could give her riding lessons. It’d strengthen her legs and back, which would help her walk better, too. As her doctor, I highly recommend she try anything she likes. Let her live her life, Lyn.”
Hearing him say her first name caused her face to heat up like road flares. A feeling of panic made her arms tremble, and she shook her head. “I...I can’t take that chance. Kristen’s a smart kid. She’ll go to college one day and get a good job. There are lots of things she can do to support herself with her feet safely on the ground. She doesn’t need to ride horses in order to live a fulfilled life.”
“I agree, but she has to learn what makes her happy. We all do. You can’t force her to be what she’s not any more than you can inhibit what she likes doing. Riding might give her a lot more self-confidence with walking.”
“So will good grades.”
Cade didn’t respond, thank goodness. She didn’t want to get into an argument with this man over the right way to raise her child. She’d love for Kristen to be able to run, jump, play and do anything she liked. But she couldn’t. Lyn didn’t want her daughter to suffer any more heartbreak. And so the answer must be no.
As they rode through the sage-covered canyon, Lyn tried to push aside the horrible memories swamping her mind. Recollections of the sickening crash and its aftermath in the emergency room. And then the anguish at the cemetery as they bid farewell to a key member of their family. Kristen hadn’t been there, still in the hospital and too sick to attend her own father’s funeral. Cade’s suggestion that Lyn let Kristen ride horses rubbed hard against the fears she’d hidden deep inside. The doctor didn’t know all that she’d lost. He didn’t understand.
No, Lyn couldn’t afford to take any more chances. Not with her only child.
* * *
Cade couldn’t stop thinking of ways to help Lyn realize she was being too protective. It must be so hard for Kristen, wanting to ride and play when her mother wouldn’t even let her try. Cade was Kristen’s doctor, but he had no right to make decisions for Lyn’s little girl. He just wished he could help them somehow.
Determined to focus on the work at hand, he called for Gus to stay nearby as he pulled Flash up and looked down on a scraggly meadow filled with bleached cheatgrass. His heart plummeted at what he saw. As a kid, he remembered the area being filled with lush, green vegetation. Now the area seemed like a vast wasteland.
From this high vantage point, he had a great view of the entire valley. At least five bands of horses roamed the vicinity. Cade mentally counted forty-three in all.
Spring foals with spindly legs frolicked across the dry, dead earth. A mare rolled, grunting with enjoyment as she covered herself from head to tail in dust. The stallion of each band kept a watchful eye on the other herds in case they got too close. Mares snuffled at the barren ground in a futile search for something to eat. Others stood
knee-deep in the muddy stream, drinking at leisure.
Reaching into her saddlebag, Lyn pulled out a pair of binoculars. Lifting them to her eyes, she focused on Buck and his herd.
“Something wrong?” Cade asked.
“Yes.” She lowered the binoculars and shook her head. “One of Buck’s mares is missing. The one with the little black foal and the white tail and mane.”
Cade remembered them well. The filly was young, about three months old and pretty as can be. A unique pinto, almost completely black. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
“I hope so. A lot can happen out here. Mountain lions love to target young foals. But even if the filly was killed, the mare should still be here.”
“I’m sure they’re fine, resting in the shade of a tree someplace. The broomtails are beautiful, don’t you think?”
Broomtails. A slang word he used for wild mustangs.
“Yes, but still shedding their winter coats,” Lyn agreed.
A deep warmth filled Cade’s chest as he watched the wild horses he loved. The low rumbling sound of a sage grouse rose above the air. Cade saw the bird, a male. Its long, pointed tail feathers fanned out as its white chest bubbled out in a display meant to win him a mate. At least this part of Cade’s life hadn’t changed. But he couldn’t help wondering what had killed the lush meadows of grass. And why weren’t there more sage grouse? There used to be dozens of the interesting birds living here.
“They’re all hungry.” Lyn’s eyes glowed, but her forehead creased with worry.
And Cade knew why. Without being told, he could see for himself that there wasn’t enough feed in this valley for so many wild horses. Lyn’s concern shook Cade’s preconceived notions about rangers. He’d never expected her to fret over the mustangs the way he did. Lyn was an enigma, and he didn’t know quite what to make of her.
“Look how lean they all are,” she said.
