She started toward her truck, then turned back. “I heard over the scanner that another batch of wildfires has started about five miles from town. Deliberately set, according to the fire crews.”
“That’s what I heard, too. Who could be that crazy? This whole area could go up in smoke.”
Leigh nodded. “And I keep wondering if a single person is behind all of this…and if it’s the same guy who’s been harassing you. Be careful, Tess. You could still be in danger.”
ELEVEN
Leigh’s words replayed through Tessa’s thoughts long after her sister left on the vet call, and during the long drive back to Snow Canyon Lodge, when Tessa took their mother home.
Clearly tired after her day at the ranch, Claire headed straight inside to her bedroom, but Janna came out to visit. Michael pulled in just minutes later.
“Glad to see you, Tess,” he said as he climbed out of his patrol car and strolled over to Tessa’s truck. “I’ve got news…sort of.”
She smiled. “I hope it’s good.”
“I called in a favor at the state crime lab, and have an answer on that evidence from your burglary. The only identifiable prints were from you or your mother.”
Disappointment washed through her. “So the intruder wore gloves, then.”
“Probably.”
“And I didn’t find anything at all when I cleaned up that mess. Would’ve been awfully nice to find some really obvious clue.” Feeling defeated, she sighed. “Maybe it was just a random, one-time deal. Someone who thought the McAllisters keep piles of money sitting around, and found that he’d totally wasted his time.”
A corner of Michael’s mouth lifted. “You wouldn’t’ believe how many people make that assumption. They give me a sly grin and wink, if my marriage to Janna comes up.”
Janna grinned and bumped him with her elbow. “Maybe you’ll have that kind of success, once this resort takes off.”
“It should. Your Web site is beautiful, and this has to be the prettiest place on the planet.” Tessa turned to Michael. “Leigh tells me the most recent wildfires were probably set. Is that true?”
“They weren’t ignited by lightning. But whether they were set intentionally or started by careless campers, we don’t know yet.”
Tessa shivered. “This whole area is tinder-dry. If there’s enough wind and the wrong location, it could be devastating.”
“We’re already evacuating homes and campgrounds west of Shawnee Creek. That one started on private land and spread into the national forest within hours. Over five hundred acres are gone already. It could be in the thousands by daybreak, if the incident management team can’t contain it.”
“Are you seeing any pattern?” Janna wrapped her arms around her middle.
“The last three have started close to some luxury cabins that were burgled.” He looked over his shoulder toward the towering mountains forming the western horizon. “Two fires were discovered by deputies responding to security system alarms. I hear the fire season hasn’t started this early in years.”
With the breeze coming from the west, the air was hazy and acrid with smoke, and Tessa’s eyes burned. “Guess I’d better go. I still have evening chores, and I should get into town and visit Gus.”
Michael shot a quick glance at Janna, nodded, then touched Tessa’s shoulder. “We’d be happy to welcome you, Gus and Sofia over here, if you’d feel safer. Your friend, too.”
Surprised, Tessa laughed, sure that it had been Janna’s idea. A warm feeling curled around her heart at the relationships with her sisters that were deepening after far too many years of estrangement. “That’s nice of you, but we’re good. All of my work is over there, and I’d spend hours commuting. Thanks, anyway.”
“Both of us are concerned, Tess,” Janna looped an arm through the crook of Michael’s elbow. “I just keep thinking about the day someone shot at you. Maybe he’s the one breaking into the cabins, and is afraid you saw too much. So he tore up your office as sort of a warning.”
Tessa smiled. “You do have a good imagination. This is little Wolf Creek, Wyoming, not some drama on TV.”
“No, it’s not,” Janna said urgently. “It’s scary. I agree with Leigh—this is all connected somehow, and I think the guy is escalating. And someone is going to get hurt.”
Josh was an adequate rider, though he hadn’t grown up on horseback like the McAllisters. But one glance at the pack horses kept in a small pasture by Tessa’s barn, and he knew they were in serious trouble.
He parked the four-wheeler and studied the animals through the fence.
It was late afternoon, and they looked drowsy, like they usually did on warm summer afternoons. They were probably still tired from their long pack trip over the weekend. But two of the five horses were moving oddly, with a random, stumbling gait.
One of them made its way to the water tank, where it plunged its muzzle into the water, obviously thirsty but not coordinating well enough to drink. The other one seemed to be mouthing something, its lips twitching and tongue flicking in and out. The motion reminded him of a dog when given a piece of a peanut butter sandwich that was sticking to the roof of its mouth.
The two mules, however, looked perfectly content and were eating at a pile of something fresh and green at the farthest end of the corral.
He called Tessa’s cell phone. No answer, but he left a message.
Then he limped over to Gus and Sofia’s cabin, but she was gone—probably at the care center once again.
After trying the phone number at Snow Canyon Lodge, he went back to the corral and watched the horses for a while longer.
None of them seemed to be in pain, exactly, and they had plenty of water, shade, and a nice pile of green…whatever, at the far end of the corral, so they had plenty to eat.
He debated, then tried Tessa’s phone once more before calling Leigh for her veterinary opinion. Would Tessa resent his presumption in calling a vet? So be it—those horses didn’t look right, and losing any of them would be a big blow to her business.
Leigh called him back in ten minutes. She fired off a series of questions and seemed strangely interested in the fact that the mules were fine and happily munching the pile of greenery in their pen while only the horses appeared to be affected.
With urgent orders for him to remove all of the feed immediately, she promised to reach the ranch within an hour or two—as soon as she finished emergency surgery on a llama.
After driving the four-wheeler to the far side of the corral to take the food away from the mules, Josh parked in the shade near the corral, slid his backpack-style camera bag from his shoulders, and lifted out his Canon EOS-5D.
It still felt light and unfamiliar in his hands, after years of working with his rugged old favorite, but it offered triple the megapixels and far better image quality. And once he’d started shooting photos of the drought conditions here, he’d begun envisioning the creation of a coffee-table book focusing on the wild beauty of this land.
He limped over to the fence and snapped off a few dozen frames of the mules, their heads low and long ears flopping over as they dozed. The two horses looked even worse than they had before.
It was clear that Tessa was operating on a shoestring here. He had no idea what a good pack horse might cost, but losing the entire string would have to be bad news for her business, and lead to expensive cancellations.
He glanced at his watch, then made his way back to the four-wheeler and climbed on, propping his cast on a fender.
For the past week, he’d been taking the little vehicle on fact-finding trips. Snapping hundreds of photographs of government land and cattle. The deep trails the animals carved across the fragile land where the soil was desperately thin and the grass sparse.
He’d made a couple of trips to town as well—by borrowing the ranch truck with the automatic transmission, so he could manage with one foot, then leaving a couple of twenties on Tessa’s kitchen counter in repayment, each time he went.
&nbs
p; Surprising, how approachable people were after he’d awkwardly navigated through the doors of a café and settled down at a table for coffee and the local newspaper.
When they learned that he wanted to write a series of articles on the West, they invariably settled in for long conversations, and if they agreed to being quoted, he added those notes to his growing stack of files.
Sylvia expected him to let her down, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not when he had so much at stake.
Except now…some of his preconceptions were changing, after talking with people whose lives were so deeply tied to the land, so greatly affected by hardships out of their control.
“Yellow star thistle,” Leigh announced as she sifted through the pile of green vegetation that Josh had taken away from the mules. “It only affects horses—not mules or burros.”
The plants looked like ordinary weeds to him, with a few tiny yellow flowers here and there. “So this is poisonous?”
“You bet, though it usually takes a month or two of ingesting it to show the worst signs. It causes a neurological disorder—a lot like Parkinson’s in people.”
Josh frowned, and glanced at the corral. “So you think these horses have had access to it for that long?”
“If they’re showing significant symptoms, yes.” She paced across the small pasture, studying the sparse vegetation, then returned. “But I don’t see any of that weed growing out here. Every rancher knows it’s bad and tries to eradicate it when they find some spreading onto their land.”
“But these horses are kept close to the barn, so they’re handy for pack trips. They aren’t out on the main pastures at all.”
Leigh climbed over the fence and hunkered down next to the pile of yellow star thistle. She picked up a stem and studied it closely, then another. “I hoped that maybe there was just a random stand of this stuff growing at the end of the pasture—something natural. But these stems were cut, Josh. By something sharp—probably a scythe.”
Their eyes met, and he instantly knew what she was thinking. “Someone went to a lot of work, you know that? Cutting all of this…secretly bringing it out here.”
“Some horses develop a real taste for this stuff, and will choose it over good grass, crazy as that sounds. Maybe this guy figured it would always be eaten by morning so no one would be the wiser. And it worked, until you noticed something today.”
“So how much would a horse have to eat?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the two horses that looked the most ill. “Someone must’ve been here a number of times. What I don’t understand is why. I mean, if he wanted to cause trouble, why wouldn’t he just shoot the horses and be done with it?”
“Too obvious,” Josh said decisively. “The sheriff would be called right away. But something more natural…well, animals get sick, they die. So what’s the prognosis?”
“Not good. We’re dealing with a neurotoxin, and there really isn’t an effective treatment with this one. With rest and time…well, hopefully, they’ll come out of it, since they won’t be eating any more of that plant. But there’s no guarantee, and sometimes euthanasia is the only option.”
“So they won’t be usable for some time?”
“If ever.” She turned to leave. “I’ll bring my dog over a little later. Elvis is a sweetheart, but he’d rather welcome a thief than bark at him. Hobo is a serious watch dog.”
“He won’t just skedaddle for home?”
“I’ll set up a wireless transmitter for an electric dog fence, and he’ll wear a radio collar, so he’ll stay within the vicinity of the barns and corrals. Believe me, he’ll let you know if anyone shows up.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll call Michael and tell him about this on the way to my next stop.”
Josh watched her leave, then he turned back to the horses. What kind of person would purposely poison such beautiful animals and make them suffer?
It didn’t take long to come up with some answers.
This wasn’t just random malice. It had taken time, and effort, and planning. It was personal, and it was directed at Tessa.
Without her string of pack horses, her business would flounder. Replacing them would be an expensive and lengthy process, and in the meantime, she’d have to cancel scheduled trips and would probably lose some of those customers for good.
So who would profit most if that happened?
TWELVE
Tessa had been out checking on her cattle—something she was doing several times a week now, given that ten head were still missing—and had been out of reception range.
But the minute Tessa got back to her truck, loaded Dusty into the horse trailer, and climbed behind the wheel, she checked her messages.
There were three from clients, asking about upcoming pack trips into the mountains. Two from Danny, who said he wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be coming in today or tomorrow to help with the either of the scheduled half-day rides. One from Kirby Fellows from the feed store, with a disturbing comment about Josh…something that she would need to start watching.
And then there was the message from Josh himself.
She listened to it twice, then snapped her phone shut, turned on the ignition and headed back to the home place, her anger and frustration growing with every mile.
It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.
Some of the people in these parts had good reason to hold a grudge, given Claire’s iron will and ruthlessness in business dealings, but Tessa couldn’t undo the past anymore than she could stop the sun from setting. She’d done nothing but work hard and try to deal honestly with everyone in this town.
Yet old feelings died hard, and some people refused to forgive and forget. And someone seemed determined to see the McAllisters pay dearly for whatever harm they’d caused in the past. There certainly wasn’t a lack of possibilities on that score.
Until now, Tessa had wanted to believe that her minor gunshot wound was an accident, and the break-in at her house was just a random incident—probably by the person who’d been burglarizing cabins in the area. But this—an attempt to destroy her pack string and ruin her business—put everything into perspective.
Just as Janna had said, someone was after her, and this person was escalating. Were they responsible for the theft of her cattle as well? And how could she ever figure out who this elusive, faceless person was, who seemed to be craftily assaulting her life from different angles?
It would be like trying to capture the wind.
After unloading Dusty and unhitching the trailer, Tessa strode over to the pasture she used for the pack horses and slipped inside.
The two mules and three of the horses looked up at her with mild curiosity and then kept grazing. But the other two horses stood together at the far end of the pasture, and even from a distance she could see something was wrong.
Both of them appeared dazed and were displaying the usual signs of star thistle poisoning—the twitching of their lips and the odd chewing motion. It was rare, now that ranchers were aware of the danger. But Tessa had seen the strange syndrome as a child, and she’d never forgotten it.
On her way into the barn, she speed dialed Leigh, but only reached her voice mail. Then she called Michael and had to leave a message on his cell phone when he didn’t answer, either.
At least Socks seemed to be doing well. The old mare nickered softly when Tessa appeared at the front of her stall, and she moved without significant lameness to press her muzzle against the bars for a quick scratch.
“How is she?”
Josh’s voice echoed down the long, dark aisle, and Tessa looked up to see him silhouetted against the bright, early evening sunshine. “Better. I’m just hoping we caught her in time, so she doesn’t have permanent damage.”
He came down the aisle, his one crutch and the cast giving him an uneven gait. Despite Kirby’s troubling message, she still felt a little thrill of awareness when he stopped and looked down at her, his thickly lashed hazel eyes fi
lled with compassion.
He made her feel delicate, feminine, and protected; feelings that she hadn’t allowed herself for years, because there was no place for that softness when a woman had to run a ranch single-handed…
She blinked, seeing for the first time the parallel between herself and her mother—only Claire had managed the ranch and raised three young daughters at the same time, which made her life a hundred times more challenging than Tessa’s.
The thought was scary and sad at the same time, as Tessa saw her future unfolding through the years ahead. Would she end up as hard and emotionless as Claire, with nothing on earth more important to her than this ranch?
Josh touched her shoulder, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the dark, cool shadows in the barn. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. Totally fine.” She reined in her foolish thoughts and straightened her spine. “I got your message about the pack horses. I really owe you—I would’ve been home after dark, and I wouldn’t have caught the problem until tomorrow.”
“You’ll have a better alarm system after this. Your sister is bringing over her dog.”
Tessa smiled at that. “No one will get past Hobo. That’s one very hyper dog.”
“She also called Michael, so he’s aware of what happened. Did she tell you that someone must have come here a number of times to leave those toxic weeds for your horses?”
Tessa nodded, her smile fading. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it happening. But I’m gone so much during the day, and often get back after dark.”
And it’s far harder to run this place alone then I’d ever imagined.
“Someone was pretty crafty. If I hadn’t been riding past on the four-wheeler, I wouldn’t have noticed what those mules were eating down at the end of the pasture. You couldn’t have seen it from the gate up by the barn.”
Wildfire Page 9
