*
IT TOOK OVER AN HOUR to reach the outer border of the microburst. Gipper finally cleared the downed timber and he hopped forward onto a grassy patch with triumph. Cassie nearly lost her balance with the leap and she inadvertantly dropped both reins as she lunged for the saddlehorn. But once he was on flat mountain meadow, Gipper stood still.
Before she could lean forward along his neck and retrieve the reins Bull turned his horse, gathered them up, and handed them to Cassie.
“Don’t lose those,” he said with a wry grin. “Makes it hard to steer.”
She snatched them back.
*
THE FIVE-HORSE EXPEDITION WALKED single file across the meadow until it was swallowed by the sea of dark pine. Bull led, followed by Cassie, Sheriff Pederson, Pompy, and Thomsen.
Cassie tried not to be miserable but it had been a long time since she’d been on a horse. And not just a trail horse shambling along nose-to-tail, but a working quarterhorse in mountain terrain. The pain numbed her and she tried not to think about it. Instead, she contemplated the team of Rhodine and Tibbs on the other side of the mountain with the same destination in mind.
She tried not to dwell on the fact that they’d used her the way they had. Not if the end result was taking down Pergram and rescuing Kyle. But the complete lack of respect they’d shown toward her, not even informing her they were tracking her investigation, saddened her. She’d rather have outright enemies than men who took her hard work for granted and exploited her.
It hurt.
*
THEY WERE HOURS DEEP into the dark timber and always ascending. The only sounds were chattering squirrels and the moan of tall trees that rubbed together in the breeze. The footfalls of the horses provided a soft thumping cadence to the journey.
Cassie learned that when she relaxed and sat back in the saddle, Gipper relaxed as well. She stroked his neck and told him he was a good horse.
As she sat back she was reminded that Gipper was the horse Cody Hoyt rode into Yellowstone as well. She wondered if Gipper had horse memories of her boss and mentor, or if he was just another fidgety dude on his back years before.
*
THE REALLY HARD PART was climbing off Gipper when they finally stopped for the night. Cassie was stiff from riding and she rubbed the hot spots on her inner thighs through her jeans. She gladly handed the reins to Pompy who’d offered to unsaddle Gipper and water him at a narrow mountain stream.
As the sun slid behind the western summits it got remarkably cooler. While the men had no problem simply turning away from her to urinate, Cassie had to make a quest of it. She walked away from the men and the horses into the lodgepole pines and didn’t stop until she could no longer hear them. Along the way she tried to work the kinks out of her back and relax her shoulders. The ground felt solid beneath her boots and although she’d grown to appreciate Gipper, she was glad to be off him.
When she returned she noted that Sheriff Pederson had started a fire and Bull was unwrapping the steaks. A fifth of Jim Beam was perched on the top of of a tree trunk and it was already a quarter gone.
“Aren’t you worried about him smelling the smoke?” she asked Bull.
“Naw. We’re still a long way away. Besides, this is Yellowstone. There are all kinds of smells.”
She sniffed and got a whiff of far-off sulfur. Pompy and Thomsen appeared from the pine forest with armfuls of firewood.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“You can brush down the horses,” Bull said. “Do you know how to do that?”
It wasn’t an unkind question. He didn’t know she’d spent a lot of time around her grandfather’s horses when she was growing up near Helena.
“I can do that,” she said.
On the way to where the animals were picketed in a small mountain meadow she took a drink of the bourbon. It teared her eyes but in a good way.
“Do you have your gun?” Pederson asked her.
She shook her head. “In my saddlebag.”
“I’d suggest you take it with you,” the sheriff said. Then, raising his voice so his deputies could hear as well, he said, “I’d suggest we remain armed at all times from here on out. You never know who we’ll run into—or who might run into us.”
Cassie returned to where her saddle was draped over a downed tree and clipped her Glock in its holster to her waistband. He was right.
*
AFTER A DINNER of big steaks and canned pork and beans, Cassie sat on a saddle pad with her back against a tree and watched the fire from between her upraised knees. She’d forgotten how quickly it got cold high in the mountains, or how brilliant the stars were in the sky.
Although it was still early she fought against nodding off. Her sleeping bag was unfurled to her right and her weapon was within reach on top of it. They’d not packed tents because Bull had decided to leave them back at the blowdown to lighten the load as much as possible.
The men sat close to the fire and passed the bourbon back and forth. As she’d predicted, it didn’t take long for them to start on elk hunting stories. Also as she’d predicted, Bull had the best ones.
Pederson appeared and sat down on her sleeping bag beside her.
“Why so quiet?” he asked.
“I don’t have any hunting stories,” she said. “And I’m bone tired.”
“Riding all day will do that to you,” he said. “Plus, I’d guess you have a lot on your mind.”
“Knowing Rhodine and Tibbs are on the other side of the mountain doesn’t give me a good feeling. And I keep thinking about Kyle. I can’t even imagine what that poor kid is going through.”
Pederson shook his head in agreement.
“Tonight is the first time I’ve not talked to my son Ben,” she said. “He has no idea where I am or why I’m not calling.”
“How old is he again?”
“Twelve.”
There was a long pause. Pederson said, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but a twelve-year-old boy is probably not pining for his mom as much as his mom is pining for him.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I didn’t want to hear that.”
Pederson reached over and gently rubbed her shoulder with his hand.
“Try to shut all that off and get some sleep,” he said. “We’re only going to be here a few hours. Bull wants to be back on the trail by four-thirty at the latest. The idea is to find those old cabins and get into position before it gets light.”
She liked the way he touched her and she wished he wouldn’t have taken his hand away. Then she thought of Ian and there was a sharp pang of guilt. It got worse when she realized she hadn’t thought of Ian in days.
*
CASSIE SLID INTO HER SLEEPING bag fully clothed. The stars were white and hard through the tree limbs and they seemed to penetrate her closed eyelids. The men were still telling hunting stories, but since the bottle was gone she guessed they wouldn’t last much longer.