I’m cut off by a distressed yowl from Stormy, her dark figure zipping across the flashlight’s path. A fluffy white figure tears behind her. Suddenly, Stormy’s back in our line of vision, and Darcy’s screaming as Stormy uses her claws and the best hops I’ve ever seen on a cat to scale Darcy’s body. Then, the large, white figure pushes Darcy to the ground.
“Holy shit!” I kneel at her side, pushing the wooly white creature away. I find out it’s a dog when it pants in my ear and licks the side of my face.
“Barkley, you have no chill!” Darcy moans, her hand over her heart. “Jesus.”
I want to laugh, but she both got scratched and fell on her ass. Add that to her bad day tally. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. These two just need to learn to play nice.” She holds Stormy in front of the dog’s happily panting face. “Barkley, that means you. Stop chasing her. Y’all have to learn how to get along or this summer’s going to be the death of me.”
She sets Stormy on the ground next to her, and I look over her scratches, one of which is decently bloody. “Those look pretty bad.”
Darcy sighs. “Not my favorite thing in the world. I’ll put some cream on it at the house.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Bet you’re regretting walking me home now.”
“You kiddin’ me?” I say, putting out my hand to help her up. She accepts and we’re briefly pulled chest to chest. “Better entertainment than Friday night football.”
NINE
DARCY
Jakeand I walk on in silence, but a more comfortable one.
Nothing like a bleeding leg to ease the tension.
“Pretty out here,” he says, his head tipping up to look at the deep twilight blue on the sky. “Nice change from Huntington.”
My stomach twists and I puff out a breath. I can’t figure out if I miss Raleigh with every fiber of my being, or if it feels good to be home again. If I were alone, I could work myself into a decent crying spell over it. “I bet,” is all I can manage.
The path narrows as we come to the bridge over the creek. Jake’s hand lands on my lower back, ushering me forward with a quiet, “After you, boss.”
I hate what that little touch does to my lower stomach.
Stormy struts ahead of us with Barkley on her tail. I turn back to make sure Jake’s behind me when barking and growling start up again.
“Barkley, I swear to god,” I yell, running into the mix. We’re close to the farmhouse and all the dogs who were taking their evening snooze join in the bark-off.
Stormy’s hiss and growl have me ready to tie Barkley up for the rest of the night, but when I get close, I realize it’s not Barkley I need to worry about.
A coyote stands in front of Stormy, head lowered and shoulders poised to pounce.
“Stormy,” I whimper.
Jake mutters a cuss as he pulls up beside me. He shines his flashlight at the area surrounding Stormy, and there, two other coyotes wait. Stormy’s surrounded.
The dogs are still barking, but the coyotes are unaffected. Or are they wild dogs? Both are possible and equally dangerous out here. They’d usually be deterred by the dogs barking, but if they’re desperate, they might be ready to do anything.
Including making a meal out of my cat.
I leap into action. Maggie usually fires a rifle to scare off animals, and if that’s all that’s available to me, I’ll use it—and just hope no bullets go where they shouldn’t. Shooting is something I never mastered in my time at the farm.
I tear up the house’s side porch and into the mudroom, eyes scanning the area for something I can use to scare them off. I spy my target, boost myself up on the bench, and grab it off a high shelf, whirling on my heel to get back outside with shaking hands.
Jake’s yelling outside, his voice echoing off the hillside. The light from the kitchen window shines out onto the lawn. He’s thrown down the flashlight and is hunched forward, trying to make himself big, I assume. He glares at the coyote and when it lunges, so does he.
Jake swoops Stormy off the ground right as the coyote’s jaws snap at her. Jake stumbles backward and yells nonsense at the animal. Stormy, if she could, would sit on his head, she’s trying so hard to get away from the coyote. She’s so scared that she’s almost fighting Jake too.
I remember that I can do something, lift the air horn in my hands, and let out a blast. The dogs flinch and the coyotes bolt into the woods. Jake rushes toward me and I reach for Stormy, pulling her into my arms and staggering my way into the house.
I hear Jake talking to the farm dogs on the porch while I’m trying to get my boots off, then the thump of him patting one of them. I left the door open, and Jake enters and closes it behind him. I’m just standing there, kicking at the back of my heel to loosen my boot.
