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They rode along a fence line close to the slope of the mountainside to the northwest. The valley stretched on, bigger than she had glimpsed earlier today.
“You’re at home on a horse,” Cade said.
“I feel that. Thank you.” At home? She was at home. She never wanted to go to her previous home. Even if she couldn’t remember it, she knew it had been dark and painful.
“Sure. Do you want to canter?”
“Gallop, please.”
Cade smiled and spurred Jack forward. They picked up the pace to a gallop. Annie needed little urging to move past a canter; she kept up with the boys. Jacey and the horse were fast friends.
They raced along the fence line toward the mountainside. Jacey felt free and happy, unencumbered by her past, her fears, or her future. It was only her, Annie, Cade, and Jack. She could soar on the back of a horse. Cade had given her this gift, but someone else had given it to her before. Someone who cared for her, though they could not reveal it. Quaid? She didn’t think so.
She didn’t waste time worrying about it. She let her worries go and enjoyed every moment of the ride. Cade glanced at her often. Every time, he would grin as if this were the most fun he’d had in a while. It was for her. She was certain.
They rode deep into the lush, green valley, verdant mountains arching and sheltering them. The fence was on their right even as they rounded to head toward the other mountainside. The cows they saw seemed happy and content.
Suddenly, Cade slowed Jack and held up a hand. “Something’s wrong.” He pointed.
She wasn’t certain what she was looking for, but the cows, who had been grazing contentedly on the other side of the fence and spread out throughout the field, were in a clump, shifting on their hooves and mooing plaintively.
Jacey pulled back on the reins and said, “Whoa.”
Annie stopped next to Jack. Cade slid off his horse and examined the barbed wire fence. She could see tufts of tan fur on it. He opened his saddlebag, tilting his head to the fence. “Something came through there.” He eyed the cows in the distance.
She assumed he would pull out a tool to fix the fence, but he slid out a rifle. Oh. The ‘something’ that broke through was a danger to his animals.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Can you shoot as well as you ride?”
She laughed. “I seriously doubt it.”
He grinned. “We won’t know until we try. I’ll give you a shooting lesson when we get back.”
“I love that plan.” She was happy to try anything, especially if Cade was part of the equation.
“I’ll be back soon. Are you all right waiting there?”
Waiting? Without him? She straightened her spine. She was safe on Annie’s back and in Cade’s perfect valley. He wouldn’t be far away, and he would always come for her.
She patted Annie’s neck. “Annie and I will be fine.”
He nodded, commanded, “Go,” and Jack took off. Cade looked majestic riding with one hand holding the reins and the pommel and one holding the rifle aloft. A real old West cowboy. Jack leaped over the fence, horse and man one in purpose—muscular and brave. They flew across the wide pasture.
She clucked to Annie and they trotted parallel to his route, along the outside of the fence, trying to see what he was angling for. The cows bleating in the grouping scattered at Cade’s approach. He kept racing toward something.
Her eyes widened as she saw he was bearing down on a mottled brown and bloody shape. A dead animal. One of his cows? Nauseating.
A tan body darted away from the mass, racing for the fence line and the trees beyond.
Cade reined in his horse, aimed his rifle, and fired. The tan body missed a step and tumbled tail over cranium. He fired again and the body didn’t so much as twitch.
Jacey reined Annie to a stop and stared in horror. The cow, or baby cow, had been killed, mangled, and eaten by the little tan creature.
Cade rode over to the bloody cow mass and hopped off. He looked it over and shook his head. Glancing back at her, he gave her an okay symbol with his hand, obviously wanting her to return it. She did. Her hand shook, but she didn’t want to worry him. Cade had killed the predator to protect his cattle.
He nodded to her, stowed his rifle, and pulled out what she thought was a shovel. She didn’t move, only stared. He shoveled a shallow depression, used the tool to push the mass into it, and covered it up with more dirt as cows bleated around him. Mourning one of their own.
