Page 9 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

She got down off her horse and walked around for a bit, relishing the feel of land for a change. She was in good shape,but riding for ninety minutes solid used a whole other set of muscles than she was used to.

“Walk me through the process, Jinx. The cattle get stolen, the brand gets changed, and then what happens?”

“They get sold off on a black market internet auction and shipped to another country,” he said.

“If they get sold off and shipped, what’s the purpose of changing the brand?” Bailey asked.

“In case anybody bothers to stop and do a brand inspection. It’s supposed to happen when the cows leave the lot, but sometimes money slips hands, you know what I mean?”

“Hmm. Does Mr. Ridge own an airplane?” she asked.

“Yes, but the guy who flies it isn’t always available.”

“He doesn’t fly it himself?”

Jinx grinned at her. “Scared to fly. Don’t tell him I told you. Like to near killed him when he had to fly east for Cam’s wedding.”

She smiled, too. It was hard to imagine Calhoun Ridge afraid of anything. Not only was he tall, broad, and well-muscled, but he had that sort of vibrant energy that took over any space he occupied. “Our secret.”

“Miss Bailey,” Jinx said when she continued to scan the horizon.

“Yes, sir?” she asked, shading her eyes as she squinted up at him.

“Are you purposely prolonging things so you won’t have to get back in your saddle?”

“Am I that transparent, Jinx?” she asked.

“Only to an old hand who’s done the same thing,” he said.

“It’s been a long time since I rode. My muscles aren’t accustomed to it.”

“You’re going to be plenty sore tomorrow,” he said. “Isuggest we take the truck next time.”

“Jinx, might we have taken the truck today and you were testing me to see if I could ride?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with no hint of apology.

“How’d I do?” she asked.

“You’re a little soft, but you’re no greenhorn.”

“High praise from the likes of you,” she said.

“Yes’m,” he agreed.

Steeling herself for the inevitable pain, she took a deep breath and swung into the saddle again.

They returned to the ranch in time for lunch. Bailey was exhausted, but the day was far from over. She scrounged lunch in Cal’s kitchen and made herself a few notes on the morning’s activities. After that she and Jinx took the truck to the trouble spot to the south, the one where the cartels were smuggling drugs.

“There’s an actual road,” she noted, her eyes following the gravel path that ran from southwest to northeast, the perfect route for smugglers, both of drugs or people.

“Yes’m, and it’s caused us no end of trouble.”

“What about border patrol, ICE?”

Jinx laughed humorlessly. “Now you sound like a greenhorn. Miss, we are and have been locked in a land war for the last century, since this ranch first began. No one besides the people who live here actually cares what goes on. To them it’s all just political wrangling. But to us it’s our livelihoods and safety. When I was a kid, people came through this road, good people, hard working people looking for a job. We paid them to do a hard day’s labor, and they took it back home to their families. Now only two types of people come through here—desperate and dangerous. The desperate ones are willing to do whatever it takes to get by. The dangerous ones, well,there’s really no limit to what they might do. Our place has been safe, probably ‘cause they’re a mite scared of Cal and his big size and mean temperament. But that can only last so long afore things go south. It’s an uneasy peace we have going, but it feels like any minute it could break.”

It was a long speech for the solitary man, but Bailey appreciated the input. “What would happen if Cal made the first strike?”

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