Page 83 of The Cowboy and the Stray

She wandered off, gun dangling at her side. Ash watched her go, then sidled up to me.

“She’s tough,” Ash said.

“Yeah. She is.”

We loaded up the spent shells, then walked around the property, double-checking locks and windows. Eli and Buck were circling the far pasture, and even from here I could hear Buck’s laugh echo across the field.

When I got back to the house, Midge was at the stove, making gravy. The kitchen smelled like pepper and burnt grease.

“You get her shooting straight?” Midge asked.

“Good enough.”

Midge grunted. “She’s a keeper, that one. Don’t let her run.”

“I’ll try.”

She gave me a side-eye, then poured gravy into a chipped pitcher and slammed it on the table.

Upstairs, Sloane and the boys were packed and ready. Noah had three books, a phone charger, and a bag of chips. Eli carried a battered duffel and nothing else. Sloane looked pissed, but she didn’t say a word.

I walked them out to the car. Sloane got in the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine without looking at me. Noah and Eli both sat in the back, arms folded tight. In his early twenties, Eli was too old to be sent off like this, but he knew better than to argue.

“If you need anything, call me.”

Sloane nodded, then peeled out, kicking up every rock on the driveway in the process.

40. TESS

I spent the evening in the hayloft, trying to calm my anxiety, laying on a blanket I stole from the bunkhouse and half a bottle of water from the office that tasted like the inside of an old tire. Calder came and checked on me once, but I pretended to be asleep. My anxiety was losing its mind, and I wasn’t exactly good company.

A sound drifted up from the yard. Not voices, exactly—more like movement. I pressed my face to the warped slat and tried to make out shapes. Down below, the light was bright enough to cut through the cracks. There were animals out. Horses in the paddock, two barn cats fighting over a scrap, and in the shadow of the barn’s side door, a pair of wolves.

I had to look twice, because for a second, I thought they were coyotes or stray dogs, but then the big one looked straight at me. I had no idea if wolves ran wild in Texas, but nobody had mentioned them in all this time. What were two doing here in the barn of all places. And not attacking the horses?

The big one wasn’t all gray. It was gold, with silver flecks down its back. The second one was smaller and moved with a limp. Both were too clean and well-fed. Could they be someone’s pets that had gotten out?

I watched for at least a full minute. The wolves circled the horses, sniffed at the trough, then trotted right to the base of the ladder. I tried to make myself invisible, but every nerve was blazing. The big wolf put its paws up on the bottom rung and sniffed at the air.

Then it happened.

I don’t know how to describe it, because nothing about it made sense. One moment the gold wolf was staring up at me. The next, Jace was standing there. Just like that, in a crazy transformation of fur to skin.

The wolf that had limped shifted next. I say “shifted” because that’s the only word my brain could cough up. The animal contorted at the edges, fur folding into itself, bones stretching, and then Buck was down there, cursing at his hip and scratching the back of his neck.

I didn’t move. If they saw me, I was dead. I tried to swallow, but my throat had gone tight as a fist. I was suddenly aware of every sound, the blood in my ears, the air stuck in my nose. I needed to puke, but I needed to run more.

Buck pointed up at the ladder, said something in a low growl, and Jace looked straight at my slat.

I didn’t wait to see what happened next.

I crab-scuttled across the loft, ignoring the splinters that jammed into my knees. I dropped down the other side and landed on a pile of old grain sacks. My ankle went sideways, and my teeth clicked together hard. I limped for the side door, ducked out, and sprinted for the nearest fence.

I didn’t know where I was going. Every part of me wanted to be as far from those two as possible, but the only exit was through the barnyard, past the tack shed, and into the horse paddock. Two horses were tied up and saddled in the paddock. One was Eli’s chestnut, the other was Midge’s mean-eyed paint named Hellcat.

I made a beeline for Hellcat. Maybe I thought she’d be too wild for anyone to come after me. Maybe I just liked her name. Mostly I just didn’t have time to think.

The gate latch was stuck, so I kicked it until it gave. Hellcat was already dancing side to side, ears pinned back and teeth bared. I grabbed her halter, dodged a bite, and swung up. I dug my heels in, and Hellcat bolted, nearly knocking me backward over her tail.