Chevalier appeared in the barn as the dodge pickup spun out and pulled away from the ranch quickly. He instantly picked up the smell of numerous heku and frowned. Jerry was right, the smell was disturbing and out of the ordinary. He soon found the mentioned coal shed and reached down to touch the ashes, then brought some to his nose and smelled it before dropping them back onto the floor.
He went back into the barn and looked up toward the loft. He climbed the ladder quickly and his eyes narrowed as he caught the fresh scent of a wild heku, one of his own kind that had turned themselves over completely to their instincts, leaving all signs of humanity behind them. He ran back to his car and called the Council to fill them in on what he'd seen so far. They instructed him to try to get more information, so he sat back to wait for morning. Emily's husband returned early in the morning, but he continued to wait for her.
Chevalier saw her truck return to the ranch shortly after dawn and he got out of his car, almost immediately appearing in the barn's loft. He sat on a cot and watched out the small window that overlooked the house.
She pulled the truck up in front of the ranch house and jumped out, smiling widely as she ran to the front steps. Seated there was an elderly man with an archaic Stetson perched crookedly on his head. He was slumped over slightly in a wheelchair.
Emily bent down, “I'm back, Dad.”
His eyes stared far off, empty, and unfocused. He didn't move as she pulled a blanket from beside him and wrapped it around his shoulders. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and then stood to greet another man who was walking toward her.
“Hiya, Sam.”
“Ms. Em, good to have ya back.” He stopped just short of the steps and smiled up at her. The man looked almost the same age as Emily's Dad. He was short and stout with overalls and a dusty hat that made him blend into the scene. He took his hat off and fidgeted with it.
“Sam, what's wrong?”
“Der's a spook up on the lower 20. I tell Mr. Keith, but he say it jus a coyote but, Ma'am, I ain't never seen a coyote that done hid like dis did. Almos cause a stampede.”
“I'll go check it out, get Patra ready,” she told him, crouching back down by her dad.
“Duty calls,” she said, and kissed his cheek again lightly.
Sam almost ran toward the barn, seemingly afraid to turn around and face the house.
Emily turned to the house, squared her shoulders, and walked in, shutting the door behind her softly.
He hit with no warning. He grabbed her left wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, then shoved her hard against the door, sending the door handle painfully into her ribs, “I called you last night, you didn't answer,” Keith hissed, his face just inches from her. “Who were you with?”
Through the pain, she managed to gasp, “Stop it.”
Keith twisted her wrist harder and slammed his body into hers again, smiling when she screamed out in pain, “Tell me.”
“I couldn't sleep. I went to do some work at the office, I swear,” she said, unable to move. The pain made her breathing shallow and strained.
He thought about it for a moment and then released her, a grin spreading across his face, “Well why didn't you say so? Good to see you!”
She took a step away from him as he reached out and pushed her hard to the floor. As she pulled herself back up, he sat at the table and began to eat.
Leaning against the door, she caught her breath and then turned and went into the bedroom. She threw on a warm flannel shirt, grabbed her leather gloves and cowboy hat, and tried to make a break for the front door, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly.
“Where you going?” he asked, pouring clear liquid from a flask into his Coke. Keith was older than Emily, and his face showed the hardened skin of someone who worked outdoors. He was of average height, but was well built and sported a dark famer's tan.
“I'm taking Patra out,” she said, and reached for the door handle, hoping that was the last of it.
Keith laughed ostentatiously, “I've been alone for 4 days… mostly.” His grin got wider, “I don't see you staying to take care of me.”
She didn't reply as she left and made her way to the barn. Waiting for her was the beautiful painted mare, who shook her large head swiftly when she saw Emily approach. Emily grabbed Patra's large head and pressed her forehead and nose into the soft velvet of the horse's muzzle. After a few seconds, she jumped onto the mare's back and headed her out of the barn.
Emily waved to Sam, who was taking her father back inside the house as a cold rain began to drizzle. She clicked her tongue twice, and Patra began to walk slowly south. She had a long Remington lying across her lap with the Blue Healer and a Border collie following behind her.
She was just enjoying her freedom. The dogs were loping along, exploring, as Patra broke into a gallop. The wind tugged at her long red ponytail and she shut her eyes to savor the feel of the wind and the smell of the hay. As she approached the south twenty, she slowed the horse to a walk and dismounted to open the gate.
Her body froze as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Someone was watching.
“Who's there?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could muster.
The dogs were crouched on their bellies, and Patra was snorting and shying. She took the horse by her bridle and attempted to calm her. The feeling passed as suddenly as it had begun and she climbed back onto the mare.
She led Patra to the trees and scanned the forest for any movement, but didn't see anything, so she slowly made her way to a large clearing and lifted her rifle, using the scope to more closely look around. Things were quiet, only a gopher was visible, and there were no signs of a coyote.
Emily rode for the rest of the afternoon, not seeing nor feeling anything else out of the ordinary, just enjoying the