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Brand scrambled to his feet and jammed on his boots. He grabbed up a smoldering log and trotted toward the sound, his gun ready.
A deep growl came from the dark. “Dawg, you dumb dog. Get back here.”
Brand rushed onward, struggling to see with the help of the glowing hunk of wood. Despite his hurry he didn’t take any chances. He didn’t want to feel the sharp claws of a mountain lion tearing him apart.
Then Dawg yelped. An awful sound that tore at Brand’s heart.
He fired into the air overhead, hoping to scare off the wildcat. “Dawg, where are you?”
A whimper drew him in the right direction. In three more steps he saw the dog lying in a heap, his side torn by the mountain lion. Brand held his gun at the ready, shone his light in every direction, but saw no sign of the animal. He rushed to Dawg’s side and bent over him. He was torn up bad. “How many times have I told you not to chase animals bigger than you?” Had the smell of the rabbits drawn the animal? Brand should have been more careful about disposing of the remains, but thoughts of Sybil and home had made him careless. Now Dawg had paid for it.
The dog whined and tried to lick Brand’s hand.
“You just lie still. I’ll take care of you.” He gingerly picked up his pet and carried him back to the campsite. He threw more wood on the fire until flames licked upward. Surely it would be enough to scare off any wild beasts that might be attracted to the smell of blood, and there was blood everywhere. “You got yourself tore up real good, didn’t you?”
He warmed water and tried to clean the dog. “You’re going to need stitching back together.” He couldn’t do it alone. Dawg might be smart and cooperative and lots of other thing, but he’d react to being sewed up. He’d likely fight or bite or both.
“Don’t ya dare die on me.” He studied the sky. How long until morning? It was impossible to tell.
He made some strong coffee, drank two cupfuls so hot it burned his tongue. Tried to get Dawg to lap a bit of water, and waited for morning.
Then he would do what he must do.
* * *
Sunday morning arrived with late summer warmth, which did nothing to ease the cold tension wrapping about Sybil’s heart. She slipped out of the house just as the eastern sky flared with pink and orange and purple. She caught her breath at the beauty, then turned her steps toward Brand’s campsite. No, she didn’t hope he had returned. She wasn’t foolish enough to harbor empty dreams. But she needed time to adjust her thinking. She’d made a mistake by opening her heart to another man. Hadn’t she learned from Colin to be more cautious?
She certainly had learned this time. This lesson would not have to be repeated for it to sink into her heart.
She sat with her back against a tree and stared at the cold ashes of Brand’s campfire. Eddie expected him back to finish breaking horses and get his pay, but she didn’t think he’d return. No, she thought he meant to ride away and never look back. She’d known it all along and expected it, so she had no reason to feel torn and empty inside.
It was for the best. Now she could write his story and then forget him.
She wouldn’t ever forget him. Despite the knowledge that he was a man without a home who lived a life of danger—someone she would do well to avoid—she had only to close her eyes to see him. His strong features, his strong hands, his—
Oh. What was wrong with her? She knew nothing about him. Not even his name. He was only a hero in a story she continued to work on. She’d brought a copy of her notes with her and bent over the pages. Soon she’d have the story ready to send to the editor.
It didn’t matter that there were so many unanswered questions in her mind. The story was good without those answers, even though she ached for more.
A sound of horse hooves startled her from her thoughts. She glanced to the right.
“Brand!” She bolted to her feet. “You’ve come back.” Her heart threatened to explode. Her feet wanted to dance. So much for all her fine thoughts.
She sucked in a hard breath and pushed a boulder over her errant emotions. Her heart was locked solidly. Nothing would induce her to open it.
Brand didn’t even bother with a hello. “It’s Dawg.”
