Miranda awoke, stretched, and then grabbed her robe and padded straight to the window overlooking the south pasture. Just gazing out on the horses was a simple pleasure she’d come to look forward to every morning.
The hay truck had come first, an entire semitrailer they’d parked behind the main barn. After that, the horses began to arrive, trailer by trailer, over the next three days. Two hundred twelve mares in all. Through it all, Blue Eye had paced his paddock, out of his mind with excitement over his would-be harem in their thousand-acre pasture. She felt bad for the stallion to have them within sight and smell but ever out of reach.
She squinted but was still unable to see through the fog that enshrouded the ground. Even the mountains were obscured, appearing as a barely discernible shadow. Although mildly disappointed, she knew the fog would soon fade away with the rising sun. The forecast had promised mild temps and plenty of sunshine.
Keith had suggested taking a ride together if the weather cleared. Between all the fencing, filming Keith and Blue Eye, and editing her documentary, she hadn’t yet had a chance to ride Sadie. She was elated at the prospect of getting on a horse again and spending time alone with Keith, doing something they both enjoyed. Although they were back on even footing again, Keith had seemed strangely preoccupied and a little aloof since Judith and Robert had left. She couldn’t understand why she and Keith seemed destined always to take two steps back for every step forward. She hoped today would be another forward step.
He was in the kitchen, sipping coffee with Jo-Jo, when she came downstairs. “Good morning, Jo-Jo, Keith.” Miranda reached for the coffee pot, noting that they both looked strangely out of sorts. “Is something wrong?” Miranda asked.
“Let’s just say something’s not right,” Keith replied with a frown.
Miranda grabbed her cup and sat. “What do you mean?”
“Blue Eye’s gone.”
“Gone?” she gasped. “What do you mean gone?”
“As in he’s not in his corral.”
“Do you think he jumped out?” Miranda asked.
“It’s not impossible,” he said slowly, his expression dubious. “But I’m confounded that he hadn’t done it sooner, if he had the ability to clear that height.”
“Maybe all those mares finally got to him?” Miranda suggested.
“If that’s the case, we’ll know right where to find him.”
“Are you going to look now?” she asked.
“Can’t. It’s like pea soup out there.”
“You’re right about that. I couldn’t spot any of the horses from my bedroom window and could barely even make out the barn.”
“We’ll have to wait for it to clear up a little bit,” he said. “Riding into a herd in the fog would only spook them.”
It was almost noon before the haze burned off. Walking out into the pasture, Miranda and Keith scouted for Blue Eye. Although hundreds of hoofprints pockmarked the frosty ground, there were no horses in sight. “Where are they all?” Miranda asked, baffled.
Keith shook his head with knitted brows. “I’ve got a weird feeling in my gut about all this.”
“It’s almost a thousand acres,” Miranda said. “They could be anywhere.”
“True, but they usually splinter off into small groups. Mustangs don’t tend to all stay congregated. In any case, there’s no point in speculation. Let’s just saddle up and go take a look.”
Miranda rode by Keith’s side as they set out at a ground-covering trot. Scouting the periphery and creek banks, where the animals would go for water, they still came up clueless, until reaching the northernmost periphery and base of the mountains that her grandparents used to lease for summer grazing.
“I’ll be damned! Look at that!” Keith exclaimed, leaping off his horse before Miranda even saw what had caught his eye. Kneeling in the mud, he held up a strand of broken wire in his gloved hand. “See this?”
“Did they break through it?” Miranda asked.
“Only if they brought a set of wire cutters,” Keith said dryly.
“What do you mean? Are you implying someone cut the fence?”
“Yup,” he replied grimly. “These horses didn’t break out. Someone intentionally let them out, and I’ve got a clue about who might have been behind it.”
“Who?” she asked. “And why?”
“I didn’t want to upset you or your grandmother, but I overheard a conversation between your aunt and uncle the day they arrived. They weren’t happy about this situation and seemed inclined to do something about it.”
“Like what?” Miranda asked.
“They didn’t say, but they mentioned a guy named Marvin. Does the name mean anything to you?”
“Yeah. Marvin McRae worked here for about thirty years ’til Jo-Jo gave him the boot. He was never a very nice man, even when Gramps was around, but they were boyhood pals, so Gramps kept him on as a hand.”