Keith shared in their triumph as the stallions trotted off, heads high and tails in the air.
The checkerboard gather had been a long, drawn-out process. After three weeks, they still hadn’t managed to get all of the horses. Given the mustangs’ resistance to the helicopters, the rest would have to be caught over time by setting traps at the key watering holes. But Keith had already decided he was finished. This was his last horse roundup.
“We have a job coming up in New Mexico next month,” Mitch said when Keith came by to collect his check.
Keith stuffed it in his pocket and shook his head. “I’m done, Mitch. You already know how I feel about this whole thing. If I can’t be part of a solution, I damned sure don’t want to feel like I’m part of the problem.”
“I don’t completely agree with you on that, but I respect your position,” Mitch said. “You know”—he scratched his chin—“even if you don’t want to wrangle anymore, I might still have a job for you.”
“I guess that depends on what you have in mind,” Keith replied.
“I need someone to drive, if you’re interested in just hauling the horses. I got a call yesterday about two dozen mustangs from Ft. McDermitt that they pulled from the killer auction. Matter of fact, they asked me about you.”
“Why’s that?” Keith asked.
“Seems they’ve got a freeze-branded stud in the mix that they say is registered to you. I can’t quite figure that one out. You know anything about it?”
Blue Eye. Shit.
“Yup. He’s an outlaw I bought from the prison. I was going to give him to my grandfather, but he musta somehow got loose.”
“Somehow, huh? And then somehow found his way from Carson City all the way back to Ft. McDermitt?”
Keith had to suppress the tug of a grin. “We both know horses are real smart like that. They seem to have a sixth sense. Anytime I ever got lost as a kid, I always let the horse bring me home.”
Mitch snorted. “You got a London Bridge to sell me too? I’m about as likely to buy it. Look, you’re gonna have to go and pick up that horse anyway, so instead of paying your own gas, why not haul the load of ’em back for me and make a few bucks?”
“I s’pose that makes sense. How soon do I need to be there?”
“A few days. I didn’t tell them for certain yet.”
“Good. That gives me a little time to take care of some personal business.”
“What are you planning to do with that outlaw?” Mitch asked.
“That’s part of the business I’ve got to figure out.”
Keith left Rock Springs early the next morning, heading west toward Utah. Although the section of highway between Rock Springs and Salt Lake City had always been one of his favorite drives, with his mind racing, Keith saw nothing. Miranda Sutton occupied his mind. Not that he’d ever been able to completely push her out of it. She’d lingered constantly in the periphery of his thoughts. A month had passed, but the time apart had made no difference, had done nothing to fade the memory of her face or suppress the stirrings in his groin when he thought of their last night together. So many times he’d been tempted to ask Mitch for her number, but calling would only have been futile torture. Too much distance separated them.
Until now.
His circumstances were no better than they were before, maybe even worse. Yet, coming to the junction of I-80 and I-15, he had a big decision to make—keep on heading west and forget about her, or follow his heart south to Los Angeles. There were so many reasons, good solid reasons, to stay the course, and only one reason to deviate from it, but that one reason—Miranda—outweighed all the rest.
Pulling into a truck stop, he pulled the borrowed phone from his shirt pocket and began scrolling through the contacts. Sure enough, Mitch had her number. What would he even say to her after all this time? Would she want to see him? If he didn’t ask, he’d never know. With his pulse pounding in his ears, Keith took a breath and dialed.
*
Miranda had barely opened her eyes when her phone rang. Snatching it off her bedside charger, she squinted at the display, surprised to see Mitch West’s name on her caller ID.
“Hello? Mitch?” she answered.
“No. It’s Keith.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Keith?”
“Yeah. I’m headed to L.A. I hoped maybe I could see you.”
“L.A.?” she repeated blankly. Her heart dropped into her stomach. “I—I’d really like that, b-but I’m not in L.A. anymore.”
“You aren’t? Where are you?”
“Montana. I’m at my grandma’s in Silver Star. I got here a few days ago.”
“You’re in Montana?” he repeated, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Yes. At the ranch I told you about. I thought it would be a good place to come. You know, to figure things out.”
“And have you?” he asked. “Figured things out?”
“Not completely,” she replied. “But I’m working on it.”