Chapter 49

The rustling of the tent wakes me, but I don’t immediately move. It could just be Fuzz again, the butthole. Last night, he tried to get out of the tent flap, not to get away clearly because he wore a small hole and didn’t go out it. Just because he could.

When the rustling comes again, I pop my eyes open, but I don’t move. A shadow dances around the edge of the tent. The fire has clearly died down outside and I don’t know what time it is, but it feels late. I try and blink the sleep from my eyes as the sound comes again, gently, as if someone is trying really hard to be quiet. Maybe it’s Wiley. It’s not unusual for him to want to cuddle in the middle of the night. I don’t mind his cuddles.

The tent flap begins to unzip, and I hold myself very still. If it’s Wiley, I’m gonna scare the fucker for daring to wake me up. I’m pretty sure Fuzz can’t unzip the door. I’d be surprised if it’s Dakota or Levi, but both would be welcome as well.

There isn’t any light in the tent, but there’s a little bit coming from outside from the moonlight. It’s not enough to show too many details but it is enough for me to see the face of the man leaning into the tent.

It’s not Wiley. It’s not Levi or Dakota either.

I open my mouth to scream, to call for the others, when the sounds of a gun going off roars in my ears. The scream comes out anyways as the man slumps on top of me and wet specks splatter across my face. I scream again as I realize I’m now trapped beneath this stranger and that he’s not moving. My ears ring with the gunshot and there’s shouting outside, both from Wiley and from the other ranchers down the herd. Some of the cows are up and mooing in distress. I’m starting to hyperventilate. Oh god! What’s going on?

The strange man is yanked off me suddenly, pulled back outside the tent flap and then Wiley is there gathering me into his arms, whispering soft words that I can’t focus on over the roaring in my ears.

“What happened?” I croak, clinging onto him. “What’s going on?” I reach up and brush at the wetness on my face as a flashlight lights up outside the tent. I look down at my fingers and see red. Blood. “Oh god, there’s blood on me,” I gasp. “There’s blood on me!”

Chaos erupts outside. Cows are moving now and that’s not good. I can hear other ranchers shouting to each other as they try to get them back under control. There aren’t enough handlers here if the herd decides to run. Fuck!

“Come on,” Wiley encourages, pulling me from the tent. “Come outside. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

I stumble out after him, my eyes immediately going to the man sprawled out on the ground outside my tent. His eyes are open wide in surprise and there’s a large crow tattoo across his throat. He’s dressed in all black, clearly for sneaking through the darkness. He’s not moving at all now. Dead. He’s fucking dead.

Ned appears so suddenly, I nearly scream again. Wiley wraps me in his arms, protecting me as I try not to devolve into a puddle of tears at the fact I have blood all over me.

“What the hell is goin’ on over. . .” Ned starts and then trails off when he sees the man sprawled out on the ground. He looks sharply at Dakota. “Steele?”

Dakota meets his eyes without flinching. “A mountain lion,” he offers. “He was sneaking around the cattle and then attempted to get into Kate’s tent.”

Ned studies him and then looks over at me where I’m huddled in Wiley’s arms. “Of course. I’ll let the others know it was a mountain lion. Are you alright, Kate?” I nod but it’s a little crazed. “Come get me if you need help disposing of the. . . mountain lion. I’ll take care of the others. They’ll appreciate that none of their cattle were dinner.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I see you’re in capable hands, darlin’. I’ll come check on you in the mornin’.”

And then he leaves without another word, as if there’s not a dead man laid out at our feet.

“What—”

“We don’t ask questions out here, but he understands,” Levi says. “He’ll have our backs.”

“How do you know?” I rasp.

Levi meets my eyes. “If we can’t trust our fellow ranchers, we can’t trust no one out here.”

And then he leans down and grabs one of the legs of the man. Wiley grabs the other after he releases me before they start dragging him off toward the mountain, away from camp and into the darkness.

“What are they gonna do?” I ask Dakota, my body numb as he comes over and starts to clean my face with a wet washcloth.

He shrugs. “Feed the buzzards, I reckon. People die up in the mountains all the time.” He tips up my chin and studies my face. “He had a crow tattoo on his neck and on his wrist.”

“I saw,” I murmur as I let him clean me.

“Seems like they’ve upped the ante,” he says, moving around me to start cleaning up the blood spots. He pulls out my sleeping bag where it’s stained and tosses it in the campfire before lighting it again. Then he starts kicking dirt over the blood spot in the dirt. I watch with dignified distress, confused at how smoothly this is all going.

“Are you going to explain why you’re so comfortable with this?” I ask, my voice more of a croak than my actual voice.

He pauses. “So comfortable with what?”

“Killing a man,” I clarify.

I’m watching him so I notice the tick in his jaw but he’s a master of his emotions. He clamps down on any reaction I might have caught otherwise.

“What makes you think I’m not uncomfortable?”

“You’re not uncomfortable at all,” I point out. “You’re calm. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this wasn’t the first time you’ve killed a man.” He watches me back, not answering. I tip up my chin. “In fact, I don’t think this is even your second.”

Dakota’s eye twitches and it’s the first sign that I’m reading through him. “How very perceptive of you, Kate,” he comments, tilting his head. “Worried about the rattlesnakes now?”

“Worried? No,” I say. “Understanding it? Yes.”

He smiles, and it’s so at odds with this situation, it feels threatening. “Good,” he replies.

He immediately starts setting the camp back to right. He replaces my sleeping back with his own and then checks to make sure the cattle are settling down. The other ranchers whistle that all is good.

I sit beside the fire, watching my sleeping bag burn, every noise making me jump.

I wait for the others to return, my eyes on Dakota as he goes about business.

The man who kills a man without hesitation.

The man who smiles after he does.