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Familiar with ATVs on her own ranch, she drove down into the streambed, splashing water up on both sides. Then she twisted the throttle, giving it enough gas to blast up the other side. Near the top, the back wheels slipped sideways in the mud.
Londyn leaned forward and pushed on. The front tires grabbed the rim of the bank and launched her over the top. Her heart racing, she slowed as she neared Nash.
“You okay?” he called out.
She nodded and kept going, heading across the grassland with no idea where the mare might have gone.
Mitchell caught up with them and pulled ahead with the ranch hand. He waved his arm to the side, indicating that they should spread out as before, covering a wider swath of land than if they went single-file.
The grassland seemed to extend a long way, with a massive hill rising in the distance. Trees lined the base of the hill and climbed the sides.
If Butterscotch was in those trees, they’d have a hell of a time seeing her. Londyn hoped that whatever had gotten the mare so upset would have worn off by the time she reached the hill. Maybe then, she’d come when she heard her name called.
Clouds built on the western horizon, roiling upward, blocking the bright sun they’d started the day with.
A flash of lightning lit up the clouds from within.
Londyn couldn’t hear thunder with the roar of the four-wheeler engine in her ears. Time was running out. If they didn’t find Butterscotch soon, they’d be caught out in the storm. If that were the case, Londyn wouldn’t give up.
She might be forced to stop her search when darkness made it impossible to go on. Already, daylight had been cut down to a faded dusk with the clouds blocking the sun. Once the sun actually set, they’d be thrown into the blackest of nights with no stars or moon to light their way.
They’d either have to call it a night and head back to the ranch soon or hunker down and survive the storm in place. None of them were dressed for cold, wet weather. If hypothermia didn’t kill them, there was always the chance of being struck by the wicked amount of lightning that accompanied storms on the Wyoming prairie.
If they were forced to postpone the search, what would happen to her mare?
As close as they were to Yellowstone National Park, they were that close to the packs of wolves that had been re-introduced to the area. They had better night vision than humans. A lone horse might be easy pickings for a healthy pack.
Tears welled in Londyn’s eyes. No. Absolutely not. Butterscotch couldn’t spend the night alone, unprotected and terrified.
There was no other choice.
They had to find her mare in the next thirty minutes.
Londyn leaned forward, pushing the ATV as fast as she could manage on the bumpy ground. As they neared the tree line, movement caught her eyes.
Dusk made it difficult to distinguish the movement in the dark shadows of the trees. A flash of cream appeared and then disappeared.
“There!” she yelled and took her hand off one handle long enough to point at the position where she’d seen the flash of cream. Londyn gripped the handle and gunned the throttle, shooting forward at breakneck speed. Every bump she hit threatened to unseat her. Twice, she was nearly thrown from her seat. Twice, she regained control and remained on course.
As she neared the tree line, she slowed, peering into the shadows. The flash of cream was nowhere to be seen.
Deep disappointment hit the pit of her belly.
A flash of lightning was quickly followed by a rumbling thunder that reverberated for several seconds.
Londyn stopped her ATV, killed the engine and walked to the edge of the trees. “Butterscotch!” she shouted.
The other ATVs stopped short of the tree line several hundred yards from where Londyn stood. Their engines made it hard to hear anything. If Butterscotch actually heard Londyn’s call and responded, Londyn wouldn’t hear her answering whinny.
Nash killed his engine, leaped from the seat onto his feet and hurried over to where Londyn stood. “Did you see something?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
Londyn frowned. “I think I saw a flash cream in the tree shadows.” She shrugged. “I could be wrong.”
“Call out her name,” Nash urged.
“I did, but she might not be able to hear it over the noise of the other engines.”
“Keep calling,” Nash said.
