wasn’t every day she saw a trampled man and it wasn’t every day that Martin came up missing. She had been so scared when she thought it had been him squashed in the mud. They might not have been close for the last few years, but she didn’t want anything terrible to happen to him.
The lights of the barnyard broke through the fog and she drew a grateful breath. She’d be out of the forest in a matter of minutes. With no watch, she guessed it to be around midnight. The clouds were separating, blowing away. By morning, there would be no sign of the storm.
Riding through the gate at the north end of the pasture, she quickly crossed it and entered the barn. Dismounting, she tied Gato to a post and dragged off his saddle. Too tired to do much more than throw him a few flakes of hay, she led him in his stall and removed his bridle. With a soft pat to his shoulder, she bolted the stall door and headed for the house.
Briar Rose met her on the doorstep with wide eyes. Wrapped in a blanket, hair unbound and no shoes, she’d obviously been sleeping. “What’s wrong?” She darted a look over Castaña’s shoulder. “Is it Martin? Did you find him?”
“No.” Castaña stepped up on the porch. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They moved into the kitchen and Briar Rose turned on the teapot. Mama’s old hen shaped clock over the door showed it was later than Castaña thought, almost 2 A.M. Now that she was home, Castaña realized how tired she was. And soaked. She reached for her cell phone. “I need to call the sheriff. I couldn’t get service out in the woods.”
Briar Rose stood within earshot while Castaña dialed the number Deputy Perez had given her earlier. He answered with a gruff, sleepy, “Perez here.”
“Deputy, this is Castaña Castillo. I need you to come to the ranch right away. Bring a saddle horse and some way to pack an injured man out of the forest. He’s hurt badly and in the bottom of Dead Horse Canyon.” She hung up before he could ask any more questions, preferring to answer them on the move. Jake might be in danger out there alone.
Castaña slipped into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt before rejoining the other woman in the kitchen. Briar Rose had placed two cups of tea on the table. Castaña added a generous amount of sugar and milk to hers. “Thanks.”
“Martin’s hurt?” Briar Rose’s sounded as scared as Castaña felt.
“As far as I know, no. The injured man isn’t him. There’re lots of places he could be.” Who was she trying to convince, herself or the other girl? “But we found a guy who was run over by a herd of mustangs. We thought he was Martin, but he’s a stranger.”
“He wasn’t … shot?”
“I don’t think so, but I couldn’t say for sure. The damage was pretty bad.” Castaña closed her eyes and tried to will away the image of the broken, bloody man. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s what happened to those other two men, isn’t it? The idea of someone running around shooting people makes me nervous as a cat.”
“Me, too.”
Exhaustion overwhelmed her and Castaña sank into her chair, worry heavy on her mind.
• • •
Castaña had been gone about an hour when the injured man stopped breathing. Jake attempted CPR, but the man had been hurt too badly and there was no bringing him back. With a sigh, Jake walked back to the cabin, found a tarp and took it back to the body and covered it. Anchoring the canvas with rocks, he headed back to the cabin. There wasn’t anything to do now but wait for the EMTs.
Too restless to sleep, he drank a cup of too strong coffee and washed the dinner dishes. He wasn’t an expert on horses, but he thought he’d give catching the runaways a shot. Digging around, he found a bag of carrots in the supplies. Taking two lead ropes, he headed back down the canyon, skirting the body. Taking his time, careful not to stumble over a rock or log, he made slow progress. His blistered feet ached.
The lights of the barnyard broke through the fog and she drew a grateful breath. She’d be out of the forest in a matter of minutes. With no watch, she guessed it to be around midnight. The clouds were separating, blowing away. By morning, there would be no sign of the storm.
Riding through the gate at the north end of the pasture, she quickly crossed it and entered the barn. Dismounting, she tied Gato to a post and dragged off his saddle. Too tired to do much more than throw him a few flakes of hay, she led him in his stall and removed his bridle. With a soft pat to his shoulder, she bolted the stall door and headed for the house.
Briar Rose met her on the doorstep with wide eyes. Wrapped in a blanket, hair unbound and no shoes, she’d obviously been sleeping. “What’s wrong?” She darted a look over Castaña’s shoulder. “Is it Martin? Did you find him?”
“No.” Castaña stepped up on the porch. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They moved into the kitchen and Briar Rose turned on the teapot. Mama’s old hen shaped clock over the door showed it was later than Castaña thought, almost 2 A.M. Now that she was home, Castaña realized how tired she was. And soaked. She reached for her cell phone. “I need to call the sheriff. I couldn’t get service out in the woods.”
Briar Rose stood within earshot while Castaña dialed the number Deputy Perez had given her earlier. He answered with a gruff, sleepy, “Perez here.”
“Deputy, this is Castaña Castillo. I need you to come to the ranch right away. Bring a saddle horse and some way to pack an injured man out of the forest. He’s hurt badly and in the bottom of Dead Horse Canyon.” She hung up before he could ask any more questions, preferring to answer them on the move. Jake might be in danger out there alone.
Castaña slipped into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt before rejoining the other woman in the kitchen. Briar Rose had placed two cups of tea on the table. Castaña added a generous amount of sugar and milk to hers. “Thanks.”
“Martin’s hurt?” Briar Rose’s sounded as scared as Castaña felt.
“As far as I know, no. The injured man isn’t him. There’re lots of places he could be.” Who was she trying to convince, herself or the other girl? “But we found a guy who was run over by a herd of mustangs. We thought he was Martin, but he’s a stranger.”
“He wasn’t … shot?”
“I don’t think so, but I couldn’t say for sure. The damage was pretty bad.” Castaña closed her eyes and tried to will away the image of the broken, bloody man. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s what happened to those other two men, isn’t it? The idea of someone running around shooting people makes me nervous as a cat.”
“Me, too.”
Exhaustion overwhelmed her and Castaña sank into her chair, worry heavy on her mind.
• • •
Castaña had been gone about an hour when the injured man stopped breathing. Jake attempted CPR, but the man had been hurt too badly and there was no bringing him back. With a sigh, Jake walked back to the cabin, found a tarp and took it back to the body and covered it. Anchoring the canvas with rocks, he headed back to the cabin. There wasn’t anything to do now but wait for the EMTs.
Too restless to sleep, he drank a cup of too strong coffee and washed the dinner dishes. He wasn’t an expert on horses, but he thought he’d give catching the runaways a shot. Digging around, he found a bag of carrots in the supplies. Taking two lead ropes, he headed back down the canyon, skirting the body. Taking his time, careful not to stumble over a rock or log, he made slow progress. His blistered feet ached.
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