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"Everything looks good so far," Rusty thought to himself, his stern expression softening ever so slightly as he took in the serene landscape before him. These moments with Midnight were some of his favorite parts of the day. He sometimes liked to imagine he was the only person alive, and this was all his domain, as far as the eye could see.
It’s not like Rusty disliked company, but he just found it easier to be on his own. “Introverted” is probably what fancy folks would call it. Rusty hadn’t always been that way, but since his break-up with Janice, he’d preferred to stay in solitude. You knew where you stood when you were alone with the animals. No risk of heartache or confusion. Just a helluva lot of peace and quiet.
As he continued his ride, Rusty's gaze fell upon a section of the fence that appeared unusual. It was up near the entrance to the ranch near the main road that led into the place. It looked as though the dirt on the ground had been disturbed around it and something about the way the fence sagged told him he had a problem.
Squinting, he urged Midnight closer, concern furrowing his brow. Upon inspection, he discovered the fence had been cut cleanly through, its jagged edges standing out like a sore thumb against the otherwise pristine boundary. This was no accident, and not the work of a wild animal, either. Someone had cut through this thing, methodically, with purpose. A thief, most likely.
"Who in tarnation would do such a thing?" Rusty exclaimed, anger lacing his voice. The security of his ranch was paramount, and the sight of vandalism sent a shiver down his spine. He dismounted Midnight, running his calloused fingers along the cut fence, lost in thought.
"Guess I'll have to check this out, Midnight," Rusty mused, his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and unease.
Rusty's mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Were the Littles all safe? What if someone had broken in and tried to hurt them? What if it was an angry ex-partner or some other person with a vendetta?
Rusty didn’t have a cell phone with him. Phones were useful, but they were also a way of disrupting a person’s peace. But Chuck needed to know about this, and soon.
With a furrowed brow, he looked down at the spot where the dirt had been disturbed. It looked like someone had crawled through the hole in the fence. Hard to tell what size they were or if there had been more than one of them. When he looked carefully, though, he could see where the dry grass and earth had been disturbed, leaving a faint trail that led away from the vandalized fence.
The warm sun overhead cast dappled shadows across the ground as he and Midnight followed the tracks. Rusty had always been a good tracker. His father had taught him to hunt, and as a young man, Rusty had enjoyed the thrill of the chase. There was something immensely satisfying about finding clues in nature that were hidden from unskilled eyes. These days he preferred looking after animals to hunting them, but his skills hadn't dulled with time.
“Looks like the tracks lead toward the barn, Midnight,” Rusty said. A sense of anticipation and anxiety gripped his chest, causing his pulse to quicken. He worried about what he might find in the barn. Or what might be missing. “Come on, boy. Let’s go take a look.”
He climbed back onto Midnight and tightened his grip on the reins.
As they approached the large building, Rusty noticed signs of recent activity—smallish footprints marred the otherwise undisturbed dirt surrounding the structure, while a few stray pieces of hay seemed out of place. His curiosity heightened, Rusty dismounted and cautiously approached the tall door, heart pounding in his ears.
"Whoever's in there," he whispered, more to himself than to Midnight, "they best have a good reason."
Rusty took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves by focusing on the familiar scent of the ranch, the earthy aroma of hay and soil mingling with the sharp tang of horse sweat. He pushed open the door and surveyed the inside. At first, he was relieved to see that things seemed normal. It was only when he walked in further that he noticed a corner of the barn in which hay had been piled up. When he got closer, he saw, to his horror, the bright crimson of spilled blood.
“Oh no,” he said, his heart sinking, “the animals!”
He approached the blood, there wasn't a huge amount of it, certainly not enough to indicate that an animal might have been badly hurt in here. With a careful boot, he moved around the hay, worrying he might uncover something terrible. But he didn't. There was nothing there at all.
A sudden splash of water startled Rusty, drawing his attention to the other side of the barn. It seemed to be coming from the barn’s small wash room.
Rusty decided not to call out in case whoever was in here got away. Instead, he tiptoed closer.
His pulse raced as he pushed open the door.
"Alright, now," he whispered under his breath, steeling himself for whatever lay beyond. As he stepped inside, the dimly lit washroom area of the shed came into view.
This was a very simple room with a toilet and a makeshift shower, which the cowhands and riders sometimes used after a day in the stables. A large barrel of rainwater stood in one corner, with a pulley system rigged above it to serve as a makeshift shower. There was a simple wooden screen in front of it, but Rusty could see feet peeking underneath the screen.
A woman’s feet.
And on the ground by her feet: blood.
Rusty didn’t like to pry on a woman taking a shower, but this woman was almost definitely an intruder. But what kind ofintruder would take a moment for a shower? He crept over to the screen and steeling himself, he peered over it.
His eyes came to rest on the back of a naked woman standing under the barrel. Her long wet hair was the color of rust, and it clung to her back in swirled, long strands. As she turned, Rusty caught a glimpse of a familiar birthmark on her lower back just above her hip. The birthmark was red and shaped like a heart.
It was a mark he'd seen many times before, a decade ago.
"Janice?" he choked out, disbelief coloring his voice.
Her head snapped toward him, wide-eyed with shock. “R-rusty? What are you doing here?”
“Never mind me. What in God’s name areyoudoin’ here, Janice?” Rusty asked, still struggling with his disbelief. “Did you break in?” He tried to keep his eyes focused on hers, struggling to maintain a semblance of respect despite the vulnerable state he'd found her in.
