Mine.
31
HUDSON
The sky had that mean, green edge to it, the kind that made the hair on my arms prickle. We had heat all morning. Then, snap, the wind flipped and smelled like wet metal and dust. Good old High Plains warning.
Since working the ranch, we had at least one bad storm every year, so we knew the drill. Secure the animals as best as possible for as long as it was safe to do so, then head back to the ranch to hunker down until it was okay to be back out.
Gray sent crews from the north fields back to the yard while I ran with Warren and Clayton along the south lane, yanking mineral tubs under cover, latching loose gates, and throwing an extra loop of baling twine around anything that liked to flap. Somewhere toward the foothills, lightning lit up the sky, and a low boom echoed.
Fuck, the storm was bearing down fast.
Gray and I met at the long run of pens by the calving shed. He had his hat cinched down and his jaw set in a grim line. A storm was one of a rancher’s worst nightmares. Icould already see him calculating possible losses if it was a particularly bad one.
“Fence line’ll hold,” I said, breath fogging from the temperature drop. “We tightened this run last week.”
“Good.” He squinted toward the west. A dark wall was building, stacked and ugly. “We need to head back to the barn, ensure everyone’s safe. That’s priority.”
We jogged back to the yard as dust started to move in sheets. The crew was funneling horses into the big barn, tack tossed on racks any old way. Gray called names, doing a head count, and voices answered. Cal. Wes. Vee. Clayton. Warren…
I scanned faces, that little itch starting at the base of my skull. “Matty?” I asked Gray when he was done. He hadn’t called Matty’s name, and I didn’t see him anywhere among the men headed for shelter. Some moved toward the bunkhouse, and others to the barn where they usually had meals.
“Does anyone have eyes on Matty?” Gray yelled.
I didn’t wait for a response. I fished my phone out. One ring. Two. Four. Straight to voice mail.
He knew we were locking it down. He knew better than I did that storms like this could throw anything at you. He should have headed back with his crew. I called again. Nothing.
I crossed the yard fast, boots scuffing gravel, pulse hammering in my throat. My phone was still buzzing in my hand, useless. I grabbed Gray’s elbow, tighter than I meant to.
“Can’t get to Matty. He’s not answering.” My voice came out rough, uneven.
Gray’s eyes flicked to mine, sharp, reading the fear I was trying like hell not to spill. The storm pressed down aroundus, heavy and close. Matty was the least careless person I knew. He should’ve picked up. He always picked up.
Gray looked past me to the west like he could will the storm to pause. For a second, he didn’t speak. Then he nodded once. “He was headed back with his team. No one can account for where he disappeared to.”
“Where the fuck is he?” My stomach cramped, and I felt sick.
“Isn’t that Junebug?”
I turned in the direction Gray pointed. The horse came pounding up the lane from the cottonwoods, reins dangling, saddle empty and skewed, foam dotting her chest.
My stomach dropped so hard I had to plant my feet. Why was she alone?
“Easy, girl.” I held my hands up.
She blew hard, ears flicking, then trotted the last few strides. Mud clung to her knees and streaked across her chest.
She shoved her nose into my chest with a sharp, desperate whinny, hot breath spilling against my shirt. My heart hammered as I caught the trailing rein, but Junebug wasn’t settling. She tossed her head back, tugging at me, teeth catching my shirt like she meant to drag me with her.
“Whoa, whoa, girl.” I tried to soothe her, but she sidestepped, pawing furiously at the ground, eyes wide and white-rimmed. Then she wheeled halfway around, presenting her saddle like she wanted me on her.
A chill cut down my spine. She wasn’t just spooked. She was trying to tell me something.
“Go,” Gray said. “I’m right behind you in the truck with the med kit. If the storm hits, keep low to the ground. And don’t be a hero if you can’t find him. Remember Ivy.”
Gray’s words carved straight through me.Remember Ivy.He was right. My little girl couldn’t lose another parent, not after her mama, not when I’d sworn I’d never leave her. But how the hell was I supposed to choose safety for her sake and leave Matty out there alone in the mud and storm?
