Stranded in the mountain.., p.20
Stranded in the Mountains, page 20
They could, Aden knew, keep this up all day. Rayna most certainly had her hands full.
He continued his ascent. Rocks and twigs crunched beneath his boots and spindly branches reached out to scratch his face. With each step, his visibility improved, and the scene took on added clarity. If there weren’t a fire threatening to destroy the town, if the person was anyone other than Rayna Karstetter, he might have laughed at the antics. But she didn’t have a single drop of humor where he was concerned. Not that he blamed her.
Emerging from the trees, he called out, “Got yourself in a jam, I see.”
She spun, and in the span of a single heartbeat her expression changed from alarm to recognition to annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
“Bailing you out of trouble.”
Aden covered the remaining distance to the fence. Zip bounded over to him. Dropping to his belly, he soldier-crawled under the lowest rung of barbed wire. Once clear, he squirmed to his feet and danced in circles, yipping at Aden in a bid for attention.
Rayna braced her hands on her hips and glared. “I don’t need your help.”
Aden bent and scratched the dog’s head. He didn’t always get on well with people and preferred to keep his distance. Animals were different. Them, he tolerated. Even liked. Zip went mad with joy and fell onto his back, begging for a belly rub. Aden obliged. “He’s a terrible guard dog.”
“He’s also a terrible judge of character. I’m going to have to work on that with him.”
Zip abruptly sprang up, a canine jack-in-the-box. He ran to the cow and resumed barking and nipping. She kicked out with a hind leg, but he was too fast for her. Aden imagined the dog, despite his young age and playful tendencies, was an excellent herder. Even so, he and Rayna hadn’t been able to reunite the calf with his mother and get them off the mountain.
It happened all the time. Calves were accidentally separated from their mothers. This little guy had likely slipped through a hole in the barbed wire fence and couldn’t figure out how to get back. The calf and his mother could have walked on opposite sides of the fence for a few feet, a mile or days. And nothing would make the cow leave her baby, not even to save herself from a roaring forest fire. As Aden watched, she leaned into the fence, mindless of the sharp barbs piercing her hide.
“How long you been at this?” he asked Rayna. “An hour? Two?”
She didn’t answer.
“Cows aren’t cooperative to start with and this half-wild pair even less so. Admit it, you’re outmatched.”
She looked exhausted. Rounding up stragglers for hours drained a person. Short honey-brown curls had escaped her ball cap and lay plastered against her damp neck, grime streaked what little of her face he could see above the scarf she wore for protection and her normally ramrod straight posture sagged.
Aden grumbled to himself. Daylight was wasting. He had to get Rayna out of here—along with the cow and calf if that was what it took. He used the only leverage he had.
“Your grandmother sent me.”
“She sent you,” Rayna repeated, her tone skeptical.
“Technically, she called the station asking for help. She’s worried sick about you. Says you’ve been gone since morning. I happened to be in the area.”
Rayna frowned, resisting with every last ounce of determination she possessed.
“I bet a minute ago you were wishing you had an extra pair of hands.” Aden extended his. “Well, here they are. We also both know your grandmother has enough on her plate with your grandfather’s...condition. You don’t need to be adding to her troubles.” He gave Rayna another twenty seconds. “I get you’re holding a grudge against me. But now’s not the time.”
“Fine.” She spoke through gritted teeth.
Aden fished his leather gloves from his back pocket and slipped them on. He’d won this first round with Rayna. The next one might not be so easy.
* * *
Rayna had been wishing for help, it was true. The hundred yards to the gate might as well have been a thousand. But why Aden Whitley of all people? She’d wanted to scream when Zip treated him like a long-lost family member. It wasn’t as if the traitorous dog had ever met the man before now.
She supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. Aden was strong and capable, no denying that. And right handy, as Grandpa Will would say. With tremendous effort, she swallowed her anger and resentment and, all right, pride.
“I’m thinking the both of us can herd the cow to the gate,” she said. “The calf will follow.”
“That plan hasn’t worked so far.”
“You have a better one, I suppose?”
“Cut the fence.”
“Did you bring wire cutters?”
He approached the fence and stopped directly across from her, closer than was necessary. She stiffened at the invasion of her personal space.
“I’m surprised you didn’t,” he said. “No rancher worth their salt leaves on horseback without a pair in their saddlebags.”
Her cheeks heated, much to her consternation. “I thought I had a pair in there. I didn’t check before I left. My mistake.”
“Fortunately, I have this.” He dug in his front pants pocket and withdrew a multitool.
“Kind of flimsy. Can it cut barbed wire?”
“We’re about to find out.” He opened the tool to a V-shape.
Rayna harrumphed.
Aden bent and took hold of the bottom rung. Avoiding the sharp points, he shoved a smooth expanse into the tool’s small jaws. This barbed wire was comprised of two strands twined together, and he worked each one separately, grunting softly as he squeezed. With a ping, the first strand gave, the second one shortly after. That task accomplished, he moved to the next rung.
In the near distance, the cow had swung her head over the fence to nuzzle the calf. The weight on the fence didn’t make Aden’s job any easier. Zip had planted himself on the ground nearby to watch the goings-on, his long tongue lolling and sides heaving.
With the last strand finally cut, Aden returned the multitool to his pocket. Rayna hated to admit it, but the tool had worked better than she thought it would. Together, they pulled the severed rows of barbed wire aside and created a hole large enough for the calf.
“See if you can maneuver Junior through,” Aden said. “I’ll keep Mama from interfering.”
Rayna whistled to Zip, who burst into action. The calf was reluctant at first, probably recalling their earlier efforts when he’d suffered some scratches. But then something clicked, and he realized the barrier separating him from his mother had been removed. Bawling loudly, he loped through the opening and straight for his mother. The two of them trotted off, eager to be away.
Aden came to stand by Rayna, again invading her personal space, and they watched the calf’s attempts to suckle.
Sighing, Rayna muttered, “Thanks,” under her breath.
“What did you say?” He tilted his head toward her.
“Thank you.” She enunciated this time, uncertain if he hadn’t heard or was teasing her.
Turning away, he gathered the top two barbed wire rungs and knotted them as best he could before starting on the next row.
“This won’t hold long.” He removed his gloves and returned them to his pocket. “You’ll have to come back after the fire and repair the fence proper.”
“At the moment, that’s the least of my worries.”
“I saw the stragglers down below. Are these two the last of them?”
“Far as I can tell.”
“You put yourself in danger for a few cows and calves?” Aden sent her a look she couldn’t quite interpret with a bandanna covering half his face.
“Yes.”
To him, they were a few cows and calves. To her grandparents, they represented a financially secure future.
Rayna and Aden started down the mountain toward her horse, treading carefully on the steep and uneven ground. Aden went first in case Rayna slipped or they encountered a snake. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his protection, that she, too, had spent much of her youth in these mountains. But she was too tired to engage in what would prove a useless argument.
“How’s your grandpa?” he asked over his shoulder.
“A little worse every week. His doctor put him on a new medication—it’s supposed to slow the progress of the dementia. If you ask me, it’s not making any difference.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. He’s a good man. Decent. Kind. He gave me a chance when no one else did.”
Rayna wanted to shout, And what did you do with that chance? Certainly not stop your brother from assaulting him. The painful lump lodged in her throat prevented her.
Reaching her horse, she untied the reins from the low-hanging branch and slung them over the saddle horn. Zip had kept the cow and calf moving, though they were eager to put plenty of distance between themselves and the fire and required little encouragement.
“I’ll wait for you in my truck,” Aden said. “Follow you down.”
Her impatience increased. “Zip and I can handle it. We’ve rounded up fourteen stragglers already by ourselves.”
“I promised your grandmother.”
“Aden.”
Saying his name gave her pause. She hadn’t spoken to him in fourteen years, right before she’d left to attend college. She’d talked about him on occasion with her grandparents. Rare occasions. She’d seen him here and there during the last six months since returning to Happenstance, always from a distance. But this was their first face-to-face encounter.
“Let’s get these two off the mountain, and then I’ll help you herd them and the rest to your ranch.”
“That’s two miles away,” she protested.
“The sooner we start, the better.”
He didn’t wait for her to answer and strode off, his long limbs moving with a natural athletic grace.
Rayna had always found tall men attractive, and Aden was well over six feet. Six-two, maybe? Six-three? She’d definitely had to elevate her chin to meet his gaze, something that didn’t occur often with her. In eighth grade, she’d stood above every student at school, including the boys. Eventually, many caught up with and then surpassed her. A small part of her, however, remained that young girl embarrassed by her early growth spurt and above-average height.
Ridiculous, of course, and yet true. More ridiculous that Aden should make her feel at ease with her stature.
A moment later, she heard his truck engine roar to life. Nothing to be done about it, she supposed. He was coming with her. Well, the ride to the bottom would give her time to figure out a way to shake loose of him and continue home alone.
Mounting her horse, she nudged the stocky paint toward where the cow and calf had paused to graze. After every bite, the cow would raise her head and stare at the distant fire. The horse, too. It spoke to his training and loyal nature that he defied his instincts to run and instead obeyed her commands.
“Good boy, Bisbee.” She reached down and patted the paint’s neck before whistling to Zip. “Away.”
The dog raced off, circling the cow and calf and snapping at their hooves. There were those who called Australian cattle dogs by the name heelers, and it fit. Besides cows, Zip herded horses, goats, sheep, cats, small children, cyclists and slow-moving ATVs.
Rayna circled the cow and calf on the other side. She and Zip were an excellent team. She’d purchased him after taking over management of the ranch from her grandparents, and he earned his keep daily.
Aden waited in his truck right where he’d said he would and motioned for them to go ahead. Rayna did, hollering to Zip, “Walk up.” He immediately herded the cow and calf down the road.
She tried phoning her grandmother but still couldn’t get a signal. Maybe Aden had radioed ahead. She considered asking him only to clamp her mouth shut. Fifteen minutes later, they reached the base of the mountain. The cow and calf hurried ahead to join the others in the ravine. Rayna conducted a count and was relieved to find none had wandered off during her absence.
She was about to dismount and open the gate alongside the cattle guard in the road when Aden beat her to it. Leaving his truck idling, he waited while she, Zip and all sixteen head went through.
“Appreciate the help.” She waved to him while he closed and latched the gate.
Hopefully, he’d get the message. And when he waved in return, she thought he had. But nope. He climbed back into his truck and continued behind her at a crawl.
A mile from the ranch, her phone rang, the tone identifying the call as coming from the ranch. “Hello.”
On the other end, her grandmother burst into tears.
“I’m fine, Grandma. Don’t cry.”
“This fire has me in a state.”
“I’ll be home soon. How’s Colton?”
“He and your grandpa are cleaning the pens.”
“Good.”
Simple, familiar tasks were something Rayna’s grandfather could still perform despite the dementia. And at five years old, Rayna’s son, Colton, thought the stinky and dirty job was fun. The two kept an eye on each other, which helped.
“I’ll have fresh coffee waiting for you,” her grandmother said.
“Thanks. I could drink half a pot.” Rayna hung up after saying goodbye.
The miniherd traveled at a good clip, encouraged by the truck behind them and the dog and rider flanking them. The instant they spotted the rest of the Dewey cattle, residing temporarily in the pastures behind the ranch, they started running.
Aden suddenly cut out from behind. He drove the quarter mile ahead to the pasture gate, having it already open for the stragglers when they arrived. Once they’d rejoined the main herd, they immediately settled. A minute later, it was as if they’d never been apart.
Rayna trotted Bisbee over to where Aden lingered by his truck. “I’ll let Grandma know you got me home safely.”
“Give her and your grandpa my regards.”
“Sure.”
“You ready to evacuate if need be?”
A dry chuckle broke free. “You want to have a conversation with me? Really?”
“I’m doing my job. Checking on residents and passing along information about the level one evacuation alert.”
With the cows safely returned, Zip’s job was done. He brought Aden a stick and dropped it at his feet, wagging his stubby tail and panting.
Aden picked up the stick and threw it. Zip was off in a flash. He didn’t return. Instead, he lay down twenty yards away, braced the stick between his front paws and began gnawing on the end.
“We’re aware of the alert and will be ready to evacuate if necessary,” Rayna said. “Consider your job done.”
“Leave at first word, Rayna. Your son and your grandparents are more important than any property or livestock.”
Aden knew she had a son. All right, Happenstance wasn’t that large. He’d no doubt seen her and Colton around town like she’d seen him. And hadn’t he stayed in touch with Pastor Leonard at church?
“Everything my grandparents have is in those cattle and this ranch. Everything.” He didn’t need to know her plans when it came to safeguarding them.
“If you need help, call me at the ranger station.”
He knew better than to offer his personal phone number.
“Okay.” She didn’t add, See you around. Neither did he. Nor did they wave goodbye.
Aden was just climbing into his truck when the ranch’s seen-better-days pickup chugged toward them with Rayna’s grandmother at the wheel. Great. What now?
She stopped and rolled down the window, a huge smile on her weathered, yet wise and beautiful, face. “Aden. What a pleasure it is to see you. Come to the house for some coffee and pie.”
This could not be happening. “Grandma,” Rayna called. “He was just leaving.”
“Nonsense. You can spare ten minutes. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Grandma. He’s—”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dewey. I’d love some coffee and pie.”
“Don’t you have more residents to check on or something?” Rayna snapped.
“I’m allowed a break.”
Rayna fumed quietly the entire ride back to the ranch. She was quite certain Aden had accepted her grandmother’s invitation merely to spite her. She dallied in the barn, praying he’d be gone by the time she’d unsaddled and brushed Bisbee.
No such luck. Aden was sitting at the kitchen table when she and Zip entered, sharing coffee with her grandfather and showing his radio to her son while her grandmother beamed at them. Zip made a beeline for the table, where he rested his head on Aden’s knee.
Anger surged inside her. What were her grandparents thinking? This was Aden Whitley. Younger brother and likely accomplice of Garret Whitley.
And Zip? He was going to need a new home soon if he kept this up.
“Colton, come here,” Rayna ordered, more sharply than she’d intended.
Four pairs of eyes fastened on her. Three held shock and surprise. Only Aden’s were unreadable.
Copyright © 2022 by Cathy McDavid
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ISBN-13: 9780369704771
Stranded in the Mountains
