“Need to get you on your feet so that I can feed you,” I urge, nudging the baby up. But each time I lift him, give him a moment to steady himself, his big-kneed legs wobble and then collapse back into the grass.
Finally, resigned, I take a seat next to him, pulling him across my lap. Not ideal, but maybe the milk will help. My thumb feels wet and strange in his mouth, but then his tongue works, and he takes the bottle.
Back leaned against the stall, a warm baby in my lap, the soft swish of tails and breathing of horses around me. I keep my hand steady, making sure I’m not tipping the baby’s head too high as my mind wanders.
Sirens. Sand. Men down.
The scar running the length of my shoulder twinges, an electric pulse of memory. Some men make war with guns and tanks. Others with fences and cattle.
The calf finishes with one more suck, nodding off in my lap. Do I burp it? A vision of me with the calf over my shoulder fills my mind. I can’t help but laugh at the preposterousness. Or that of being here as an undercover cowboy mountain man.
By way of Los Angeles, then Sacramento.Shit.
Burping or not, the little guy’s fast asleep on my legs. I manage to wrangle my cell phone, putting in a call to the boss.
He answers on the first ring. “Kincaid.”
“Sheriff McLeod.”
“Things going okay?”
“Good as can be expected,” I answer, staring down at the black Angus baby.
“That snoring I hear in the background?”
“I’m in the stables.”
He grunts. “Fucking up yet?”
Three words. My boss in a nutshell. “Probably. Not really cut out for this country shit.”
“Better get used to it, city slicker.”
Enough with the pleasantries. “Made contact yesterday around 0800 hours. A quick interview and the subject hired me. Access to the ranch house and property. Subject complaining about neighbor trespassing and violations that I have now witnessed.”
“Elaborate.”
Marine to his core.
“Spotted a distant truck on her property. Fresh tread marks and footprints. Truck tracks, too. Might or might not have been Martin Blackwell. Fence gates opened. Headlights driving by slow at night.”
“So, intimidation and trespassing?”
“Maybe. Need more time to verify.”
“Got to make it quick. The Feds are starting to come down hard on this. One more report from Blackwell, and I won’t be the one in charge anymore.”
“Understood.”
If this blew up, the county would lose control of the whole investigation. Can’t let that happen.
“If she’s not clean, this whole thing falls apart.”
“Roger that.”
“Anything else?”
“No. Will keep you posted.”
