Page 85 of The Cowboy and the Stray

He straightened. “Tess. She’s gone.”

Damn it. Why? “You’re sure? Why?”

“We were sweeping the line. Buck and me, in our fur. We didn’t know anyone was in the barn. We went inside, thinking we’d shift under cover in the barn where she couldn’t see us. We shifted back, next thing we hear, Tess is jumping out of the loft and making a beeline for the paddock. Then she jumps on Hellcat, and lickety split, Hellcat’s halfway to Blanco, and Tess is hanging on for dear life.”

I ground my teeth. “Why didn’t you smell her?” Nevermind I’d told them a dozen times to shift well out of sight of the house.

Buck walked up, limping hard and shaking hay out of his hair. “Was gonna mention that, Cal. Only thing I can figure, she smells like you now, so we didn’t catch it. She’s yours, but she don’t know what that means yet, does she?”

Jace spat again, this time to the side. “You should’ve told her. She saw us turn, Cal. She was scared out of her damn skin.”

“She was still up in the loft?” I asked. I at least could’ve warned them. I’d even checked on her.

Jace nodded. “We missed her.”

The pit in my gut turned to something colder. “How long?”

Buck checked his battered watch. “Ten minutes, max.”

“Anyone see where she went?” I was already moving, pacing, eyes locked on the horizon.

Jace scowled. “She went north, but you know that damn mare. Could double back, could climb a damn windmill if you dared her.”

Buck said, “Probably following the creek bed. It’s cooler, and she’ll want water.”

I wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t help. “All right. Here’s what we do. Jace, take the east road, loop past the old stone house, and check the mill. Buck, sweep the western trail and check the low fence. She might try to cut through Coleman’s land if she thinks it’s a shortcut. Gray, double back and make sure she didn’t hide out near the dump. I’ll track from here.”

Jace hesitated, then said, “Should we shift?”

“If you need to. But if she sees another wolf—” I stopped. “Just don’t let her get spooked.”

They nodded, all of them. Buck shot me a look, sharp and pitying. “She’s tough.”

We scattered like crows. I barely made it twenty yards before I heard the sound of hoofbeats. Hellcat came barreling up the drive, ears flat, and no Tess. I managed to grab her by the halter before she knocked me on my ass.

The mare was lathered with sweat, flanks heaving, eyes wild. I scanned her for blood or hair, something that would tell me if Tess had bailed or been thrown. There was nothing.

I pressed my nose to her mane. Under the animal stench, there it was. Tess, sharp with adrenaline, layered over the memory of my own scent. Buck hadn’t been wrong. She smelled like me now.

I whispered, “Good girl,” and let her go.

Jace was already holding the north gate open. “She’s not in the fields,” he said. “You got her trail?”

I nodded. “I’ll find her.”

He gripped my shoulder, hard. “Don’t scare her more than she already is.”

I wanted to say I wouldn’t. I couldn’t promise.

Sweat ran into my eyes before I hit the fence line. My boots raised little clouds of dust with every stride. I cut across the high pasture, then dropped into the dry creek, boots catching on roots and loose stones.

Tracking isn’t just smell, though that’s a big part of it. It’s how the earth lies down after someone runs across it, how branches bend, how the water in a hoofprint muddies just so. Tess had gone hard and fast, or Hellcat had. There were places where the dry grass was stomped flat, and other places where she’d scrambled through brambles.

Here was where Hellcat had tossed her. It looked like she’d hit the ground hard, too.

It was dumb luck that she hadn’t turned her ankle on the rocks. I counted three times she’d gone down to her knees, but she always got up. I could picture her, hair wild, cheeks cut by sweat, running until her lungs gave out. That was how she was wired. Never stop moving.

After half a mile, the signs got fresher. The air in the gully was a little cooler, and I caught the aftertaste of fear in the places she’d paused. When the wind shifted, I got it. Tess, and something else. Not wolf, not horse. Wild pig. I slowed, keeping to the edge of the gully, and listened.