I don’t say a word as I pull him from the trailer, his face now shadowed by the darkness surrounding us. His pathetic cries do nothing to deter me.
He lands on his back in front of the closed gate that separates this field from the one the last of my cattle are in, the herd grazing in the shadows of the mountains. Now that I’ve sold some of the cattle, I can move these girls closer to the ranch and reintroduce Ralph to them with the other bulls now up the mountain.
Opening the gate, I attach it to the fence post to secure it and then let out a whistle, calling for Lettie and Koda. Wherever they are, they’ll hear it, and I need them to help me drive this cattle down.
Rio thrashes, and even though I can’t make out what he is saying, I hear it for what it is.
Mercy.
And I feel nothing.
Elena will have one less person to worry about.
My two Heelers bound toward me, tails wagging, and immediately hop into the trailer, knowing what their job is. It isn’t new; we’ve done this same song and dance before. Leaving him where he is, I head toward the herd, rounding them on the left so I can come up the rear and once we have a clear view of them from behind, both dogs hop from the trailer, lowering themselves toward the ground as they separate and head toward the cattle. I keep the engine rumbling, watching them work, but it’s Koda who initiates the drive, nipping at the ankle of one of the cows to get her to move.
The herd converges into the center as Lettie herds them into a group and Koda drives them down the field, toward the open gate. From here, I can’t see him, just a vague outline of his body moving on the ground. No matter which way he manages to shuffle himself, he is in the direct line of the moving cattle.
Accidents happen on ranches. People are killed by cows far more often than people even realize.
Sotragic.
I follow behind, unable to stop the pride I feel watching these dogs work. I’ve had them since they were puppies, they’re intelligent, loyal and damn good at what they do. The sound of thundering hooves fills the air, a deep rumble that shakes the ground, sending birds scattering from their perches in the trees.
Faster and faster, the herd moves, closer to their new field, their group funneling to allowthem through the gate.
And all I need to do is watch, satisfaction extinguishing the rage. Cutting the engine, I sit back, focus on the herd as my two dogs capture any stragglers, forcing them to follow through the fence and only once the last one is through, and the dogs are keeping them contained do I climb off the back of the ATV and head to the gate, unlatching it from the fence to lock it up. With a whistle, I release the dogs from the job, allowing them to stand down and finally look at the ground.
There’s nothing but flesh and bone, blood and torn clothing.
It’s tempting to leave the body, but it’ll only attract predators that could hurt my livestock. On the other side of the ranch, I hear Ralph let out a bellow, the noise cutting through the fields toward me as I pull on the gloves to deal with the mess.
CHAPTER 34
Ascratchy, raw soreness dominates my throat this morning, making each swallow of cool water a painful reminder of everything that happened yesterday. I woke up alone, and as I step outside, shielding my eyes from the morning sun, I catch sight of Knox with a hose, spraying water down onto the ground in front of a fence. There’s now a herd of cattle in the paddock beside Ralph, and the fence between his and theirs is open, giving him full access to them.
Slipping my feet into my sneakers, I head toward Knox, an ache in my body that’ll take a few days to go away. Not the first time I’ve taken a beating, it likely won’t be the last.
“Hey,” I rasp, swallowing thickly.
His eyes snap up, and a muscle jumps in his jaw as he takes stock of the injuries marking my skin.
“What are you doing?” I ask, glancing at the puddle of water and mud.
“Cleaning up,” He grumbles.
“I think it’s clean,” I point out, “Whatever it is.”
He chuckles, “Takes a bit more than that to get rid of the blood.”
“Blood?”
“Rio’s dead.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it, just keeps hosing down the same spot on the ground. I glance around, confused as fuck, as if his body is just going to be out here in the open in broad daylight.
“What do you mean?” I blink a few times. “Is he still in the barn?”
“No.”
“Well, where is he?”
