by H. L. Wegley
“My point was that I didn’t want you to get yourself killed. I couldn’t have just stood there and let you do that.”
“Right. You couldn’t have just stood there, so you were going to shoot me in the leg, so I couldn’t stand there either.”
“But I didn’t, did I?”
“I called your bluff, so you threw down your gun and tried to use a pen instead.”
“Can we forget that ever happened?” She took his hands in hers. “Please? I’ll never lie to you again.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes. But I may try to manipulate you on occasion.”
“Like you’re doing right now?”
“Drew, I’ve noticed there are times you don’t mind being manipulated. Like after pillow fights.” The first smile in hours turned the corners of her mouth upward.
“You’d never know it to hear us talking, but there’s a deadly wildfire on the other side of this peak. To make sure we're safe, we should go down to the creek below. If the fire jumps the peak and reaches the creek, at least we'll have the water to protect us.”
“Water sounds good. I could wash the smoke off me.”
“And I’ve got burns that cold water would soothe.”
The night grew darker the farther they walked from the ridge and the fire.
“Drew, I think it’s raining.”
By the time they reached the creek, a light rain fell.
“The big thunderstorm is dying. This won’t last long. The heavy showers are probably to the east of us. This little bit of rain isn’t enough to douse the big fire, but it might stop its westward progress.”
“Fire or no fire, I’m getting in the creek. I want this smoke out of my clothes and out of my hair.”
“That’s okay as long as you don’t get out of your clothes.”
“I don’t intend to, Mr. West.”
“Good. Then I’ll join you. The back of my neck is screaming, ‘don’t touch me.’”
“You need aloe vera.”
“It doesn’t grow around here.”
“Yes it does. Aloe vera has been domesticated. I’ll bet your mom has some in her kitchen window. But, Drew …”
He lowered his scorched neck into the water. At first, it felt like ice, then it felt heavenly. “Yeah.”
“When can we check on the horses?”
It wasn’t a good idea. “We need to get back to the ranch to check on Steve. If Preston made his calls, or catches wind of what’s going down out here, the ranch could be full of police cars. Maybe FBI too.”
“You didn’t answer my question. On our way to the ranch, won’t we be going by where we left the horses?”
“Beth, we need to circle the fire well to the south, then go back along—”
“But that’s still close to where we left Sundown and Dusty.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
“I am. And I have another question.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you think any of Suarez’s men survived?”
“As nearly as I could tell, all of Suarez’s men that Steve didn’t shoot were chasing us. They all came into the canyon, the fire trapped them, and incinerated or cremated them.”
“That’s a gruesome way to put it.”
“Well, intense forest fires can reach temperatures of nearly fifteen-hundred degrees Fahrenheit. That’s the temperature they use for cremation. Now I’ve got a question for you.”
“I thought we were done discussing the note.”
He nodded. “But, Beth, do you realize that tonight you finished your father’s work?”
She didn’t reply.
Drew waited.
“I—I didn’t have much to do with finishing it. That was God using Steve … and you. I did try to finish something else though, and—”
“And that was something that didn’t need to be finished, because it was only starting.”
She dipped her head. “Yes. It was only starting. But, Drew, can we please start by checking on the horses?”
Chapter 24
Beth’s stomach churned worse than it had when Suarez tormented her with that hideous snake. A shiver shook her shoulders and she moved close to Drew’s side as they walked up the steep hill toward the cabin.
Over the past hour, Drew had led her to rapids, well south of the fire, and they had waded across the Deschutes. Then they walked down to Steelhead Falls, where he got his rifle.
Most of the thunderstorms had moved away to the east. Stars filled the sky directly above them. The cabin came into view up the hill, a silhouette against the late-night sky.
On the horizon, to the south, a distant thunderstorm still flashed its anger at the intruding monsoon air. Or was it anger at the maritime air from the west? Drew, the Meteorologist, would have to make that discrimination.
Thinking about the weather, where they had walked, even thinking about the snake, kept her mind from going where it insisted on going, to the horses. Had Suarez slaughtered them like he did the people in Laguna? Had he shot both horses?
Maybe one had run away at the first sound of gunfire. “Drew, would the horses run away at the sound of a gunshot?”
“No, Beth. They were trained to stand still, so we could use them for hunting in the backcountry.”
Then there was no hope. If Suarez saw both horses, both would be dead. Way West Ranch without Sundown wouldn’t be the same.
There was no reason to ask Drew further questions about the horses, and continuing to speculate would only drive Beth crazy. She had to wait and let her stomach continue to—
Beth dropped Drew’s hand and ran to a small bush, where she lost whatever remained of last evening’s dinner at the cabin.
When she came back to the small path they’d been walking on, Drew took her hand. “My thoughts exactly. One thing we know, Suarez won’t be harming any other living things, human or animal.” He paused. “Beth, our packs are in the cabin. They’re heavier than I feel like carrying right now, but we could get something to eat.”
“Water. I just need some water.”
They each took a bottle of water from the cabin and left to cross the ridge. From there, they would walk down to the old homestead fence, where they had left Dusty and Sundown.
“We can go back later and get our packs.”
“But not on the horses.”
“Have you ever ridden on an ATV, Beth?” Evidently, Drew didn’t want to talk about the horses.
“We had ATVs in Mexico for riding in the desert. But it wasn’t always safe to go out there, so I didn’t ride.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.”
“I’d rather ride Sundown.”
“It’s not far now. Who knows, maybe you can ride Sundown.”
The tone of his voice wasn’t convincing. She glanced up at Drew’s face but couldn’t read the silhouette against the night sky.
The old fence stood about twenty-five yards ahead and the irrigation ditch created a dark line paralleling the fence. This was the place, but where were the horses?
“Here are our saddles.” Drew gave them a quick inspection. “They look okay.”
“But saddles aren’t much use without—” What was the dark form ahead on the ground? She wanted to look, but fear of what she would see stopped her.
Beth pressed her cheek into Drew’s shoulder and looked away toward the ridge as they moved forward. If it was one of the horses, she didn’t want that picture burned into her memory like those images from Laguna.
“It’s Dusty. Beth, it looks like he’s moving.” Drew ran ahead and knelt beside the horse. “Take it easy boy. I’m just looking.”
She watched from a distance, allowing the darkness to obscure any details.
Drew stood and circled Dusty, slowly, bending over to look several times. “It’s okay, Beth. Come here and I’ll show you what I found.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I think so. There’s only one wound. A bullet entered t
he back of his left shoulder and came out the front of the shoulder. Don’t think it hit any bones. He must have been running away from them when they shot.”
“Drew, does that mean the horses knew the danger and—”
“I’m not sure what it means for the horses. Maybe they sensed the men were bad. Dusty’s wound doesn’t look like it penetrated anything but the shoulder muscle. But he might not want to flex that muscle until we get a vet out here with some pain meds.”
“Can we do anything for him?”
“Maybe. I’m going back to the cabin and get our first-aid kit. Here. Take my rifle just in case you need it.”
She took the .30-30 from him.
“I’ll run. Be back in ten minutes.”
“Be careful, please.”
“You too. Keep your eyes peeled, just in case. And don’t shoot Steve if he shows up.” Drew turned and trotted back toward the cabin.
Beth knelt by Dusty’s head.
He sniffed her hand and recognized it.
She stroked his head and decided she wouldn’t go looking for Sundown until Drew came back. She needed him beside her if things turned out the way she—
A whinny sounded in the distance, far down the fence line.
The sound of a galloping horse grew louder.
Beth stood, drew a sharp breath, and waited.
The big horse slowed and trotted up to her. Sundown neighed softly, snorted, and ran her cool, wet muzzle over Beth’s outstretched hand.
She blinked back tears and patted the horse’s head. “I don’t have any treats for you … wait. Drew’s saddle.”
Beth ran the fifty yards back to where they’d left their saddles, knelt, and opened Drew’s saddlebag. She fished through it, until she felt a paper pouch, and pulled it out.
When she opened the pouch, Sundown’s head moved over her shoulder. The big horse sniffed then whinnied.
“You’ve got to share, girl. But here.” She dropped a sugar cube into her palm. It disappeared before she could stand.
“Come on. Let’s see if Dusty feels up to having a treat.”
Sundown followed Beth, the horse’s muzzle nuzzling Beth’s shoulder all the way back to Dusty.
Dusty wasn’t interested in sugar until Sundown started begging for it. He raised his head, took one, and laid his head down again.
Five sugar cubes later, Drew’s trotting footsteps sounded on the path.
He stopped about twenty-five yards away and watched Beth and Sundown. “Looks like I’ve got some competition.”
“Yes. Stiff competition.”
“I can see. Her muzzle’s glued to your shoulder. What did you do, break into my stash of horsenip?”
“I treated her. I treated them both.”
“Dusty ate some too?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a good sign.” Drew walked her way and stopped beside her. “How is Sundown?”
“She ran to meet me, whinnying all the way.”
“Then I think we should saddle her up and ride double back to the ranch, so I can call a vet. First, I need to rub some antibiotic on Dusty’s wound.”
“Did you put some of that on your arm?
“Used the mirror and got it covered as much as I could.”
Drew knelt and gently covered the entry and exit wounds with antibiotic ointment.
“Drew … do you think we still have a ranch?”
“Yeah. Suarez wanted us, Beth.” Drew stood. “He wanted us so badly that he risked bringing forty men and their illegal weapons into the US. He wouldn’t stop to destroy the ranch if that meant giving us more time to get away.”
“You’re probably right. I hope so.”
As Drew saddled up Sundown, Dusty tried to stand. Evidently, he didn’t want to be left behind.
Drew motioned toward the saddle laying loosely on Sundown’s back.
Beth took over saddling Sundown.
Drew calmed Dusty. “It’s okay, boy. We don’t want you to start bleeding. We’re coming back.”
Dusty laid down.
Beth gave him another sugar cube.
By the time she finished, Drew had climbed into the saddle and lowered a hand to pull Beth up behind him.
“That’s not how it’s going to be, Mr. West. You’re on my horse. Climb down and I’ll help you sit behind me.”
“We’re not married yet so, technically, this is still my horse.”
“You talk like our marriage is, how do the judges say it, settled law?”
Drew climbed out of the saddle. “We survived last night, didn’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Then I rest my case.”
Beth mounted Sundown. “Resting your case only means the jury is out.”
After Drew mounted the horse behind Beth, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “This arrangement definitely does have some advantages.”
“Do you know what my father would say if he were here?”
“Uh …”
“You are demasiado íntimo.”
“I get it. You don’t have to translate. But the general idea is, keep your hands off my daughter.”
“That’s a loose translation.” She leaned her head against his. “But Papa isn’t here, Drew.” It was the first time, since her encounter with Suarez, that Beth had been able to say that without fighting off tears.
“Beth, I don’t have stirrups or a saddle. I’ve got to hold onto something.”
“I guess you do, don’t you?”
Drew’s bear hug around her tightened.
After what she’d been through last night, the comfort of Drew’s arms was exactly what Beth Sanchez needed.
In a few minutes, they reached the back road into the ranch and, in another quarter of a mile, they would be able to see the ranch house.
“What do you think we’ll see at the ranch?”
“Based on my last phone conversation with Agent Preston, I’d be surprised if we didn’t see a lot of police cars.”
“After the night we had, that’s comforting.”
“Beth, sitting behind you, on your favorite horse, riding home without a Suarez in the world … that’s comforting.”
“But there is a Suarez. Ricardo and a Grand Jury trial are waiting for us in Pecos.”
“Leave it to an INTJ, like Beth Sanchez, to make things uncomfortable.”
“Would you really want life with me to be boring?”
“Was that a hypothetical life with you or a hypothetical boring?”
“I don’t think I should answer that … yet. Changing the subject …”
“You always do.”
“What are the odds that Steve made it out safely last night?”
“Well, I can say this … his odds are a whole lot better than ours were. Besides, didn’t you once tell me that odds don’t matter when God is involved?”
She nodded. “And He was involved.”
Sundown picked up her walking pace. Probably sensing that home and the barn, with something a lot better than grass, awaited her.
“Did you learn anything tonight, Drew?”
“Probably a dozen things. Are you thinking about one thing in particular? Like God saying that vengeance is His, not mine?”
Was that a lucky guess, or—no. Once again, Drew knew. “Does that mean you won’t be whacking every young punk who makes you mad?”
“Only when I need to defend someone. But, Beth, if anybody tries to hurt someone I love, I’ll beat the tar, the living crud—whatever they need beaten out of them to protect the people I care about.”
“The reason I’m asking is—”
“Is you want to know if your necessary and sufficient conditions have been met so that you can say yes to my question.”
“Is that really how you think of me? Cold and calculating?”
“I’d say cool and calculating … most of the time … except after pillow fights. Then you’re—”
“You’ve answered my qu
estion.”
“But I’ve got more to say on the subject.”
“Isn’t there something authors try to avoid, something called overwriting? You know, when they say the same thing over and over in slightly different ways, until their readers just—”
“Got it. My answer was both necessary and sufficient. Subject closed.”
They rounded a turn and looked for the ranch house. In the pre-dawn twilight, it was barely visible through the sea of red and blue flashing lights.
The lights reflecting off her skin turned her arms purple.
“Police. I guess Mr. West isn’t surprised.”
“He’s not surprised at all.”
“Not surprised? Drew, the day is just beginning.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Anything … or nothing.” She smiled and turned her head toward him but couldn’t focus her eyes on his purple face six inches from hers.
“You know, Beth, that smile, when you tell me stuff like that … it doesn’t tell me a thing.”
“By the time you see it, I’ve already been told everything I need to know.”
“Yeah. Right. But you, Beth Sanchez, have a crippling, information-sharing disability. You hog all the important stuff and nobody else gets to know it, especially if it’s about you.
“No comment.”
When they were about a hundred yards from the cars, a powerful beam of light blinded Beth.
Sundown stopped and snorted.
Beth looked away from the lights and urged Sundown on.
Drew buried his face in her hair. “I think the world just turned red and blue … or maybe purple.”
“It’s them.” A voice came from somewhere near the police cars. It sounded like Steve.
“Steve’s safe,” Drew said. “Prepare for the onslaught.”
“Let me talk to them first.” A tall, slender man in a suit approached them.
Sundown stopped.
The man reached a hand out to Drew. “Special Agent Preston. It’s good to see you again, West.” He turned to Beth. “And you too, Ms. Sanchez. Can you give me the nutshell version of what happened out there and the current status of the cartel gunmen?”
“Got some urns?” Drew slid down from Sundown’s back.
“Some what?”
Beth climbed down from the saddle. “Urns, Agent Preston. Most of the men, including Suarez, are dead and cremated. Maybe ten or fifteen others are dead or dying from bullet wounds inflicted by Steve Bancroft.”
