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“I’ve known you for a long time. I met your grandfather only twice, but it was obvious you meant the world to him. He wanted you more than anyone to take his place, but he was smart enough to know that if you ignored the tremendous gift he gave you, then he’d be forced to accept the fact there was no hope of keeping the ranch going. He wanted you to have a legacy. In my opinion, you need to get your head out of your ass. Raging Thunder is a special place.”
“Who asked you?” I taunted him, although he was right.
“Well, you did as your attorney.”
I thought about the last few conversations I’d had with my grandfather before he’d passed. One of them remained in my mind and had while I’d served my country. He’d told me I had the spirit of Raging Thunder in my heart and soul. I had loved it, but Missoula had no longer seemed like home. On the day I returned after being rescued, he’d changed his will, which had put a final wedge between him and my father. Two days later he’d lost his battle with cancer.
Fuck. Fuck. I raked my hand through my hair, still fuming. I walked onto the deck, trying to figure out what the hell to do. The footprints drew my attention again. They were fresh, the ice crystals forming on the surface. I headed down the few stairs in that direction. “There’s nothing I can do?”
“You can buck it up and start hiring some people and buying some cattle. But other than that, not really, unless you’re willing to give it to charity,” Adam said as he laughed.
Fuck.
“I need you to find out who made an offer on the property before.”
“That may take some time. What does it matter?”
“I just have a bad feeling someone is trying to convince me to sell or forfeit, and I don’t give a shit how long it takes and what rock you need to dig under. Find out.”
“Convince you to sell? Is something going on you’re not telling me about?”
As I headed toward the bank of trees, a strange scent assaulted my senses. What the hell was it? “It’s just a hunch.” I scanned the area then glanced down at the footprints. There were at least two different sets of them. What the hell? I bent down, realizing they’d likely happened the day before, firming up over night. As I glanced back to the cottage, I thought about how isolated the cabin really was.
Then I heard a scream.
“Fuck. I’ll call you back.” I shoved the phone into my pocket, sprinting toward the sound. As I rounded the corner of the house, a cold shiver slammed down my spine. There was no doubt it was Wren. Unable to catch sight of her, I turned in a full circle, noticing she’d dropped a suitcase near the truck, her footprints heading toward the woods. “Wren!”
I took off running, following the indentations as I darted through the woods, fallen limbs crackling under my feet. Still, I couldn’t see her. Jesus. How far had she gone?
“Wren!” I heard her wails first before catching sight of her, hunkered down on the snow. I lunged forward, holding my breath as the stench of blood wafted into my nostrils. Then I heard another cry.
As I peered down, the sight of blood covering her fingers almost sent me over the edge, yet in her hands was a small puppy that she cradled against her chest, the soft mews mixing with her racking sobs.
She looked up, her eyes filled with horror. “Who could do something like this?”
While the coppery odor was distinct, given the blood had coagulated, that wasn’t what I’d smelled before. As wind whistled through the trees, I caught another whiff.
And I knew exactly what I was smelling.
Chlorine trifluoride.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I had to think about what to do.
While the puppy wiggled in her hold, the horror of what the little creature had endured was like a stake shoved into my heart. The pup’s mother lay dead in a pool of blood. I knelt, pulling both Wren and the shaking puppy against my chest, shielding her view. “It’s okay.” I scanned the forest again, hissing since I hadn’t thought to bring a goddamn weapon with me. The fuckers could be waiting, watching.
“No, it’s not okay. I heard a cry, and the puppy was just lying there… by… his mother… and…” She was close to becoming hysterical. “She has a collar on. She was someone’s dog. Why?”
“Listen to me, honey. Do me a favor and take the puppy back to the house. Okay?” The last thing I wanted to do was terrify her.
She shot her head up again, gasping for air. “What if there are more puppies lost in the forest? What if they’re injured or… Monsters.”
“I’m going to take a look. Just go inside. Do it, Wren. Okay? Will do you do that for me?” There was no doubt by just glancing at the dog that she’d been shot. Was this another warning? Or had someone planned on hurting Wren? The only way for anyone to know she was here was from the rehearsal dinner or from being at Raunchy Ride. And how would they know she’d rented the cabin? There were too many strange occurrences for any of this to make sense.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not certain, little bird. Just go inside where it’s warm. We’ll take care of the puppy.”
