Wild Horses. Claire McEwen
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desert and majestic mountains, all on his own. But seeing her tonight... It felt like some kind of twisted fate.
Three dark shadows veered from the group, and Todd squeezed his legs against Wendell’s flanks, urging the horse into a gallop to come alongside the strays, moving them back into the herd. The moon was rising, a lopsided circle, almost full. They’d timed their work tonight perfectly, making sure the sky would be dark when they freed the horses, but lit by the moon for these next few miles.
Focus on the job at hand, he reminded himself. Seeing Nora tonight was just a strange coincidence. Something to think about later, when the stakes weren’t so high. Except his racing brain wouldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t let her go.
Do I know you? She’d almost recognized him, just because of his voice. He’d recognized hers almost immediately. The car light behind her had cast her face in shadow, but her voice had sent an eerie shock of recognition through him the moment he’d heard it. It had always been a little low, a little husky.
Stop. His mind was like a dog with one of those tug toys. It refused to let her go. If she was living around here, he’d have plenty of time to find out. One of the perks of owning an equipment repair shop in a small town were the customers who were happy to hang out and share all the latest news. People always said that women were the biggest gossips, but after three years repairing the tractors and trucks of Benson, Todd was pretty sure the men were the ones who truly liked to dish the dirt on their neighbors. He had no doubt he’d be able to get the scoop on Nora by noon tomorrow.
Until then, he had to keep his focus right here on the long night ahead. Once they rode out to Elliot’s and left the mustangs there, they still had to get back to his truck and horse trailer, parked alongside a deserted back road a few miles beyond. It wasn’t a perfect plan—an amateur tracker could trace them, no problem. But Todd was banking on his hunch that the government would be relieved to have the horses off their hands. He doubted they’d put their scarce resources into pursuing mustangs they’d locked up and left to die in the high desert heat.
Right now the animals were just tired shadows, moving uneasily through the dark. Todd eased Wendell back a little to match the herd’s slowing pace. He wished he could stay with them all night—to see them as the sun came up tomorrow when they realized they were free. It would be a joyous sight, but one he’d just have to imagine. He was due back in Benson to open up his shop and carry on as if this night had never happened—as if he’d never been out here under the stars risking everything, including the life of the one woman he’d never forgotten.
NORA OPENED THE tailgate and stared at the enormous pile of tools stacked in the back of the rickety old pickup. “How is it that we own five broken weed whackers?”
“And three mowers?” Wade pulled on his work gloves, ready to unload the mess. “And eight chain saws? And don’t forget the wood chipper with some company’s name scratched off it.”
“Stolen?” Nora glanced at her brother, her stomach knotting.
“I’d bet the ranch on it.”
Wade’s voice was flat, as if he was determined to shove any emotion somewhere deep down inside. He’d been like that ever since he left the army. Nora tried to ignore the prickling worry. It had only been a couple of weeks. She needed to give him time. No one came home from war all relaxed and happy.
Wade handed her a chain saw. “Looks like every time something broke, Dad just threw it into one of the outbuildings and swiped one from someone else. So far I’ve found four different sheds on the ranch, all packed with old tools. You have to take a look when we get home. You’ll be amazed.”
“Or horrified, more likely.” It was crazy how their dad still had the ability to embarrass her, even from wherever he was hiding in Mexico. How mortifying, and how totally predictable, that she and Wade were now responsible for all his stolen property. Her dad had always excelled at making huge messes and leaving them for other people to clean up. “What should we do with it all?”
“See what can be fixed, first off.” Wade pointed to the repair shop across the gravel parking lot.
“But after? Do you think we can find who used to own them?”
Her brother shrugged. “I hope so. And if we can’t, let’s just give it away.”
“Unbelievable.” Nora sighed and set the chain saw down on the gravel, yanking her own gloves from the back pocket of her jeans. When she’d agreed to help Wade get the family ranch going, she hadn’t realized there’d be more public humiliation involved.
“Do you ever think about how Dad’s doing down in Mexico?” Wade set a blower on the ground and reached for another. “Whether Arch and Blake are still with him?”
“Honestly?” Nora pulled on another chain saw, tugging it free of the pile. “I try not to think about them. I know I should... He’s my dad and they’re my brothers. But I figure they’re probably in trouble down there, too. I mean, stealing farm equipment was just a hobby. Do you really think they’d give up dealing drugs and all the other stuff they were into?”
“Probably not,” Wade grunted as he tried to heave the chipper out.
“And who knows if they’re even still alive? All it would take would be cheating the wrong guy, or infringing on someone else’s territory for them to be killed down there.” Nora glanced at her younger brother, worried that she shouldn’t have voiced her fears. Decades of protecting him made the instinct automatic. But he just looked mildly frustrated, untangling a power cord that had wrapped itself around the leg of the chipper. Sometimes she forgot he was all grown up and a veteran, as well. “So I guess that’s the long way of saying no, I don’t think about them very often. Or at least, I try not to.”
Wade got the cord off and yanked at the chipper again. “Well, that’s probably the best way to handle it, at this point.”
Nora looked away from the overwhelming mess in the truck, to where the granite peaks of the Sierras rose abruptly from the hills beyond town. “I know I sound harsh, but they weren’t exactly kind to us. Do you think of them?”
“He’s my dad,” Wade answered simply. “They’re my brothers. Of course I think of them. And I hope they’re okay. But I don’t miss them.”
Nora pondered that statement for a moment. Wade might be a decorated soldier who’d done two tours of duty in Afghanistan, but in many ways he had a gentler heart than she did. He didn’t hold the same grudges against their dad. Of course, as the youngest, he’d had Nora, three years his senior, to protect him from a lot of their father’s craziness. She turned away from the mountains. “Well, whoever owns this repair shop nowadays is going to love us,” she said. “We’ll probably pay his mortgage for the next year, getting all this stuff fixed.”
Wade glanced at her. “This is my first time coming into town.”
She understood the anxiety written on his face. She had it, too. “It’s not that bad. When I went out to get groceries, most people just stared. You know they’re dying to ask about Dad, or Arch and Blake, but they don’t know how.” Grabbing a weed whacker in each hand, she forced an upbeat note into her voice. “Come on, let’s do this.” She started toward the battered garage with Mountain Machinery Repair painted in blue above the door. A couple of tractors were parked alongside the building and a riding mower was just inside, most of its internal parts scattered around it. “Hello?” she called into the cavernous entrance. “Anyone here?”
“Hang on,” a deep voice echoed from the back of the shed. The clank of something metal made her jump—she was still shaken from her encounter with the mustangs last night. Footsteps approached, a welcome relief from the memory of the stampede.
A man’s figure emerged from the gloom and Nora could see his frame in the shadows, tall and lanky. Then he stepped into the afternoon