48. Fable

Chapter 48

Fable

T he next day brings the first fall frost in the Green River basin. There's excitement in the air as I step out of my cabin after changing, and it isn't until breakfast that I understand what it means.

The cows come home.

"So, they just know to come home?" I ask, listening intently as Gunnar explains the Green River Drift. We've talked about it before, but he goes into deeper detail now.

"With the first frost," he nods. "They slowly make their way back, or drift back. They'll cluster up at each gate and be directed back home. If we accidently get a cow that doesn't belong here, we just send them to their own ranch, but it doesn't happen often."

"Sometimes a cow will make a new friend," Rhett adds. "And they'll refuse to go back home."

"That's only happened once since I've been around," Gunnar adds. "We ended up letting the cow stay with her friend on Steele Mountain."

"That's sweet of y'all," I reply, smiling. My eyes flick over to Colt where he sits staring at me, his eyes on my neck. I'd covered up the marks with a scarf today that goes with my outfit, but I can tell he knows they're there. He looks for them, as if reminding himself he'd marked his territory. It takes everything in me not to reach up and touch there, not to bring attention to it. To the marks or the collar I'd found locked around my throat.

Oh my god! Is that a hickey, Everhart?

The one and only time I'd come home with one when Jinx was alive and she'd seen it, she'd made such a big deal. I'd gotten embarrassed but she'd only laughed and pulled down her collar to reveal her own.

Don't worry. I've got one, too.

She'd have acted the same way if she were here now, tease me about it, and then make sure I was okay. We were always teasing each other about stuff like that.

"Gotta go," Rhett says, standing from the table. "I've got paperwork to do."

Gunnar takes another drink of his orange juice before standing up, too. "And I have to look for a way to stop Houdini from getting out. Damn horse broke through his stable gate again."

Trent doesn't say anything, just waves at me as he leaves, his gaze lingering before he disappears.

And then it's just Colt and me sitting at the table. He's staring at me, his eyes locked on mine, as he eats his toast.

"What?" I ask, watching him carefully.

The corner of his lips quirks up. "I have a lot to get done today," he says.

"Okay," I reply, looking at him weirdly.

He stands and comes around the table, looming over me. I look up at him, and when he reaches for the scarf at my neck and tugs it down, I tense. His fingers graze the marks there, made by the collar still hanging around my neck. He'd left it on me when I slept. I woke up to it still around my neck, a tiny heart-shaped lock keeping it in place.

"Why not leave it seen?" he asks.

"I can't walk around with a dog collar on," I reply with a scowl.

His eyes flicker with something dark. "Can't you?" but he seems to remember we're not quite alone when Mel appears with a bucket for the dirty dishes. "Could you watch Dolly for me today?"

I blink. "Of course. Jethro will enjoy having company."

He nods, his lips splitting into a grin before he tips his hat to me and turns away.

When I leave the big house, Dolly is sitting on the porch beside Jethro. Her tail thumps happily when I come outside, and I pet her.

"Come on, Dolly," I tell her. "You're with me today."

Four days now. That's all I have left here. I don't want to leave. I don't want to return back to Florida to a lonely apartment and the devil's humidity. I take a deep breath as I stand in the middle of the yard, taking in the clean mountain air and the feeling of sadness encroaching on my heart.

Not only do I not want to leave Circle Bee, I don't want to leave them .

Trent with his silent submission and his shop raccoon.

Gunnar with his bright smile and his rescue rooster.

Rhett with his refusal to believe his trauma shaped him and his silly-named queen bees.

And Colt with his stoic control and his failed police dog.

I look down at Dolly with a frown. "I don't think you're bad at your job," I tell her. "Maybe you were just misguided. I'm sure you can find whatever it is you search for."

She boofs at me and wags her tail before looking over at the barn. I frown and follow her gaze. When she realizes I'm looking, she boofs again and stands, taking a few steps before looking back at me.

I sigh. "Last time you took me to a locked door, girl," I tell her. "I don't know if it's a good idea this time."

She boofs again, more insistent, and I groan. "Fine," I say. "But only because you deserve to have someone following you around as you relive your glory days."

Jethro wags his tail as he gets up to follow. Dolly leads us across the yard just like before, her tail wagging as she sniffs the air. When she approaches the barn again, I sigh.

"We talked about this Dolly," I tell her. "It's locked."

She bays and closes the distance between the door, pawing at it and whining.

"It's locked," I tell her again, putting my hands on my hips. But at my words, she bays louder. When Jethro joins in, I roll my eyes. "You want me to show you? Fine!" I close the distance and grab the door handle. I jerk on it. "See, it's. . ."

The door pops open.

I stare at it in surprise as Dolly immediately shoves through the opening I made and disappears inside.

"No! Dolly!" I hiss, peering into the darkness. "Dammit."

I glance down at Jethro who looks up at me happily. "Shit. We gotta go get her."

I ease the door open the rest of the way and look around. I don't know what I expected to find, but when I see all the crates stacked up in a very large room, I frown. What's so special about crates that they didn't want me to see. They're just wooden crates stamped with the Circle Bee brand.

Dolly bays in the barn and it echoes around us as she reappears from the darkness.

"Hang on," I tell her, looking around the door for a light switch. When I find one, I flick it, and the large room is flooded with light. "Whoa," I breathe, taking in just how many crates are in here. The barn is completely full of them.

Dolly paws at one of the crates and I frown, moving over to see what she's trying to show me. The crates are held closed with only wire.

"What is it?" I ask her, my anxiety hitching. "What do you smell, girl?"

I thought Colt mentioned Dolly was a retired rescue dog, but maybe I'm remembering wrong. Was she a bomb dog? Or was she a drug dog? I don't even remember if he told me.

If she's sensing a bomb right now. . .

"Fuck," I grumble, reaching up and untwisting the wire. "I'll just make sure it's not a bomb or something," I tell myself. Jinx would have already searched through every crate. The least I can do is check one of them. I grab the edge of the lid and hold my breath, just in case something is about to pop out and get me.

"One. . . two. . . three," I count out loud.

I pop open the lid and look inside. Honey jars. Lots of them. Each is cushioned in foam. I reach in and pick one up, look at the Circle Bee label, and sigh.

"See. There's nothing here, Dolly," I tell her. "Just honey."

She paws at the crate again and whines, insistent. I frown and look down in the crate, searching for what she could be smelling. It's large enough that there should be layers of these things. I can just doublecheck, right? What would it hurt? I put the jar back into the foam and grab the edges, lifting the heavy tray of honey jars up and out. I set it on top of the crate beside it and look back down, expecting to see more honey jars.

My eyes widen. "What the?—"

"What the fuck are you doin' in here?"

I whirl, my heart leaping into my throat as I take in the sight of Rhett standing in the door. Gone is his relaxed carefree smile. Instead, his face is twisted with anger, his eyes flicking between me and the honey I'd lifted out of the crate.

"You broke the rules," he snarls, taking a menacing step toward me that has me stumbling back. Jethro barks at Rhett, sensing my unease. Dolly just watches.

"I didn't," I argue, shaking my head. "It was unlocked."

Rhett freezes. "What do you mean it was unlocked?"

"What I said," I spit, glancing at the crate again. "Dolly wanted in. I tried to show her it was locked. It wasn't. She ran inside and I followed."

Colt appears in the doorway as Rhett steps fully inside. His lips twitch at the sight of me standing by the crate. "What do we have here?"

Rhett shoots Colt a look. "The door was unlocked."

"Was it?" he asks flippantly. "How careless."

Gunnar appears in the doorway, a frown on his face. When he sees where I'm standing, his eyes widen. Trent appears a second later like they sent up a fucking bat signal. All the while, I stand beside the crate, my eyes flicking between them and the items in the bottom of it.

"I should go," I say, stepping to the right like I'm going to go around them.

Colt moves with me, blocking the exit. "Sorry, Annie Oakley," he says. "We can't exactly let you leave just yet." He grins at my unease, clearly enjoying this.

I look back at the crate. "What kind of police dog was Dolly?" No one answers and I nod. "So, you wanna explain what this is then?" I ask, pointing to the crate. "Or we gonna just stand here and pretend it's not there?"

"It's nothing but flour," Rhett answers, his eyes unwavering on mine, as if he thinks not moving will keep things civil.

"Hidden under honey in crates?" I ask, raising my brows despite my heart beating so hard in my chest, I can hear it in my ears.

"It's a Wyoming thing," he replies. "You wouldn't understand."

"You think I'm an idiot," I say, leveling him with my stare. "I know what cocaine looks like, Rhett. I'm from Florida. We legit have cocaine sharks."

Rhett blinks. "The fuck?"

"Look," Gunnar says, stepping forward. "We can pretend this never happened?—"

"No, we can't," Colt interrupts him. "It's a risk. She could call the cops."

I suddenly realize the trouble I'm in. I should have just agreed with Rhett, said it was flour and left this building without another word. They'd think me an idiot, but that's better than the alternative. Now, they know that I know what's in there because I'd opened my big mouth and trusted they wouldn't hurt me. But why would I think that? We've gotten close, sure, but they've only known me for a few weeks. This operation has clearly been going on for a long time. There are hundreds and hundreds of crates in here. Maybe thousands.

"I won't call the cops," I rasp, taking a step closer to Jethro.

"But can we trust you?" Colt asks, a wicked grin on his face. It makes me even more uneasy to see how much he's enjoying this.

"And who exactly left the door unlocked, Colt?" Gunnar growls.

"I couldn't possibly know," he replies, not looking away from me.

"Stop it," Rhett grunts. "It doesn't matter right now."

I straighten, my eyes on the four of them. "Clearly, I don't know y'all like I thought I did."

Colt's grin widens. "I did tell you there were no green flags here, Annie Oakley."

Fuck. He did. But. . . who in their right mind would come to the conclusion of drug trafficking from that comment. Are they mules, or are they just an in between? My eyes flick to the door again, wondering if I can outrun them.

"You can't leave," Colt says, seeing my intentions.

"Like hell I can't," I snarl, taking a menacing step forward, but none of them flinch. Jethro presses against my leg and starts to growl at them, sensing my unease.

"Colt's right," Rhett says, and I look at him, my face twisting with anger. He looks over at Trent. "Put her in her cabin. Lock the door."

"No!" I snarl, and try to bolt, but I'm at a disadvantage. Even if I'd been a good runner, I'm not faster than Trent Coldiron. The big motherfucker latches onto me around my waist and lifts before I make it halfway to the door. He has me tossed over his shoulder so fast, I barely blink. Jethro growls and snarls at them, and when he grabs hold of Trent's leg, Trent grunts in pain, but he doesn't stop, pulling Jethro along with him.

"Put my down!" I cry. "Trent! What the hell?"

He marches across the ranch, me over his shoulder screaming. Mel comes out on the porch with a frown at the noise.

"Help me!" I cry. "Mel! Help!"

He watches with a wince and disappears back inside. My heart sinks. Are they all in on it?

Trent turns the knob of my door and kicks it open. He pulls me back upright and sets me in the cabin, gently pushing me inside. Jethro comes sliding in a moment later. My eyes well as I realize just how bad of a situation this is. Am I going to die here? Will they kill me to keep me silent?

I spin and meet Trent's eyes. His face shuts down when he sees the tears spilling over my lashes, his hand clenching tightly on the door.

"Trent," I whisper, starting to shake.

His eye twitches. "I'm sorry," he croaks. "It's gonna be okay."

And then he slams the door shut. Something rattles outside and when I try the door, I find it barricaded. Anxiety claws its way up my throat.