Cowgirl Thrillers by Barbara Neville
***
Morning comes none too soon. I can hear Spud rattling pans.
“I feel better in the daylight,” I say.
Spud is looking just past me. I follow his gaze.
“Oh, did I forget to mention? Joe likes to cuddle.” Joe is lying on his side behind me. We are back to back. “Horse puts out a lot of heat. Feels like a thousand pound hot water bottle.”
“Hope he don’t roll over.”
“Now yore makin’ me nervous.”
I scramble up. Yowch, that would hurt.
Wolf rides up, long black hair swinging in time with his horse’s walk.
“Where you been, brother?” asks Spud.
As he dismounts, he says, “Man is like river. Gotta keep flowing where force of nature take him.”
I hand him a cuppa and say, “Grits on,” as I wave my hand toward the skillet.
“What’d you find?” asks Spud, trying once again for an informative answer..
“Spirit deer shine bright in moonlight,” says Wolf.
“No shit? You already found him?” I ask.
“No, just tellin’,” he says and smiles. “If we find in dark, him show up fine in full moon.”
“Sheeit.”
“If he is up and grazin’ out in the open,” says Spud.
“Mm-hm.”
“I was actually referrin’ to the explosion we had here.”
Wolf looks over quizzically and says, “Explosion?”
“Shit, our fire blew to hell and gone, sure was loud here in camp,” I say.
“Crick rock?”
“Nope, no shards,” I say.
“Buzz play trick?”
Spuds says, “Ain’t seen Buzz since we saw you last. Or the horses.”
“Horses?”
“All gone but Joe and the one yore sittin’ on.”
“I’ll go take another look fer ‘em,” I jump on Joe bareback and head out for a circle.
As I ride out, I hear Wolf, who is busy eating breakfast, tell Spud, “Take Scout.”
I go over to our trail coming into camp, since horses tend to head for their home pasture when spooked. Nothing walked there since we rode in the night before.
Spud trots up beside me and says, “I’ll go left of the trail, you right.”
“‘Kay.”
We cover a fair amount of ground to no avail.
Eventually, we hear Wolf shout, “Whoop.”
That is the signal to go in for a reconnoiter.
34 Wolf Bait