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“North, then down the feeder trail that goes to MPG Ranch’s south gate.” Their ranch was lower down the hill, below the big timber frame mansion, and spread across part of the valley floor.
Wiz released the tight grip on Strawberry’s bridle, letting her hands slide down the reins. “There’s no legal public access on that road.”
Interesting she knew that. “I’m not public. I live on the Rocking B Ranch.” For some reason, he didn’t tell her he was part owner.
“Okay. That’s the way I’m headed. Why didn’t you call for help? There’s cell service up here.” Wiz patted the horse’s neck a little gingerly.
He chuckled. “Broke my cell in the fall.”
“You don’t carry a backup method of communication?”
That would take more smarts than he had. “No, never had any problems before. You do?”
“Yes. I have my cell, a satellite phone, and a SPOT emergency beacon.” She tied Strawberry back to the tree, yanked off the medical gloves, and pulled on her pack. Carrying his rifle, she returned, undid the reins, and led Strawberry to the trail.
He reached out. “Uh, do you want me to put the rifle in the holster? It will get heavy, fast.”
“No.” She didn’t turn, just kept walking.
Usually, people trusted him. Her suspicion made his neck tighten again. “Your pack must be awfully heavy. That’s a really impressive medical kit. Are you a medic?”
“No.”
Something in her bearing and her no-nonsense attitude reminded him of his dad. “You were in the Service?”
“Yes.”
Not a very talkative type. “Which one?”
“Air Force.”
“And what did you do?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Okay. Sorry.” So much for conversation. So strange. Most people were happy to talk when they met someone new, especially around these parts, where there weren’t a whole lot of people, period. She didn’t say anything else, but she kept glancing back at him, making Strawberry jerk. She’d tighten the reins, Strawberry jerked, and the cycle got worse. He had to stop both of them, or he’d be on his backside again. “Hey, Wiz, uh, I really hate to say anything, since you’re saving me here, but those quick head movements are making Strawberry nervous and jumpy. I promise that I won’t do anything back here except sit and hang on. Unless you want me to talk. Or do something else. Just let me know.”
“You can tell me about your ranch.” She didn’t turn to face him.
“Sure.” Relieved to do something to ease her tension, he told the story. “My family homesteaded the Rocking B back in 1884. We’ve been raising cattle and hay ever since. It used to have more trees, but after a disastrous couple of years, the family sold them to Marcus Daly to shore up the tunnels in his copper mines. That’s where the majority of the trees in this entire area went to, and after the cattle came in, the trees never came back, since they would have been trampled before they got very big. Anyway, it’s been in the family forever, and now my dad runs it. But he’s getting older and needed some help, even though he didn’t ask or admit it, so I came back a couple of years ago.”
He took a deep breath. “But that’s not working out all that well. Dad wants to keep doing things the same old way, and while you can make money ranching the old-fashioned way, it’s pretty tough on the environment. I’m trying to get him to change a few things, but he’s not very receptive. We fight a lot. That’s why I’m out here. We had another argument, and I figured it was just better to leave for a while and let things cool off. But I should have changed into work boots at least.” He laughed. He’d been dumb, and he used to know better.
“You should carry more safety gear. And carry it on your person, not fastened to your saddle. Animals are unreliable.”
“Strawberry is. She’s new to us, and I shouldn’t have taken her out on a trail ride by myself. I let my temper get the better of me, and that was stupid.”
“Yes.”
He blinked at the back of her head, then chuckled. “Wow. Way to put me in my place. Most people would have said ‘no, you weren’t. It was understandable.’”
“I’m not most people.”
No kidding. “I can see that. Can I ask your preferred pronoun?”
Wiz’s shoulders tightened, then relaxed. “She/her, thank you.”
Tom smiled. He’d been correct, but he should have asked earlier. Wiz was an interesting person. The only emotion she’d displayed was wariness. Granted, she was a short, slight woman, and he was a big guy, but she was armed and he wasn’t. His position behind her, out of sight, was obviously nerve-racking for her. Something must have happened to make her wary. Was it him, or his size, or everyone? He had no way to know. Maybe she’d had a bad experience in the military. Post-traumatic stress, perhaps.
