Page 20 of Roughstock
He turned and walked inside without another word or an explanation of what he meant by ‘missing girls’. After securing myself in my SUV, I sent a quick text to Trent before I reached between the seats, grabbed the Glock that Trent had given me, and placed it on the seat beside me. I felt better about having it as I turned out of Quincey’s and onto the road leading off the reservation.
I kept looking in the rear-view mirror to see if anyone followed me, and after ten or so miles, I finally exhaled. The cell reception was spotty, so I couldn’t call Trent to let him know what Mr. Quincey said.
But the words rang in my head repeatedly, and I started to get the feeling that I wasn’t seeing the whole picture.
What missing girls? From where? And how did Nitro stumble upon them? And the biggest question of them all—who was it that betrayed him?
One thing was for sure. This was bigger than any one of us thought it could be, and I feared it could cost someone else their life before we caught the person responsible for Nitro’s death.
Chapter 12
Roughstock
Igot a simpleon the roadtext from Cheyenne and set a timer on my phone. If she wasn’t here in three and a half hours, I would be going to look for her. The snow was predicted to start around three in the afternoon, and I wanted her here and not on the isolated roads of South Dakota when it finally arrived.
A new mare was delivered yesterday morning, and the ranch boss was standing on the railing leading to the paddock, watching her nibble on hay. Walking across the expansive yard to the paddock, I stepped up with him and watched her graceful movements as she grew accustomed to her new home.
“They have all the cattle put into the barns, and I made sure the generators and water pumps are fueled in case we lose power. A few of the boys are putting fresh hay out in all the stalls for the horses.” He tilted his chin outward as he said, “As soon as she stretches her legs, I’ll move her inside and make sure she’s put away for the night.”
“I appreciate everything, Carl. I’ve got Ms. CeCe and some of the ladies cooking a nice dinner for you and the boys. It’ll be here around four,” I explained, wanting to take care of the men who took care of my ranch.
I’d always been a big part of the ranch, learning everything I could about the animals, their training, and the art of selling livestock. But when I was around ten, my father noticed I was good around the temperamental livestock that fought to be contained. Somehow, I was able to make a connection with them, and more times than not, I was able to move past theirfears and stubbornness. The result was I gained a reputation for breaking the wild ones, and for years, we made good money doing that.
Since Pops died, I hadn’t had much desire to be around the animals, and I’d put a lot on Carl and the ranch hands. Carl loved the work, and I paid him well, provided him with a small home of his own, made sure whenever he wanted to take a trip that I covered the cost for his relaxation, and ensured he had the best ranch hands to do the work and make his life easier. He was practically part of the family, and if he ever left us, I’d be sad. He was closer to Pops’s age than mine, but he’d been a fixture on the ranch since I was a kid.
“You didn’t have to do that, Trent. The boys could’ve made their own meal tonight, but I’m grateful for yours and the ladies’ kindness,” Carl responded as something drew his attention away from the paddock. “Let me handle this shit and I’ll catch up with you later.”
He walked off, yelling at one of the newer ranch hands about doing something the wrong way, and I had to chuckle. When it came to the ranch, Carl didn’t think anyone did things right, as in his way of doing things, and most of the time, the ranch hands were terrified of him. In reality, Carl was a kind soul who lost his whole family when he was twenty-five and had yet to recover from the loss.
I stood at the fence for a while, watching the mare get accustomed to her new home. She didn’t seem as fearful as the seller had suggested but looks could be deceiving. I decided I was going to work with her, needing the distraction from the club and all the problems we’ve encountered over the last few years.
I’d felt lost and untethered from my normal life, and spending more time with the livestock helped settle the restless spirit that seemed to be growing. Lost in thought, I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me when I felt a hand on my denim-covered ass.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw my beautiful wife standing behind me, her sweet smile on her face. Turning, I jumped down from the fence and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. It was something she did when she was struggling, so I worried something had happened.
Pushing her back slightly, I looked down at her and asked, “What’s wrong, wildcat?”
I’d hoped the pet name I used for her would relax her, but I could see in her eyes that something was bothering her. She bit her lip, and I took her hand into mine and walked us across the large yard and up the steps leading to the kitchen. Opening the door, I held my arm out into the doorway, silently telling her to go before me.
I followed her, closing the door behind us. She went to make a cup of coffee, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out what had her upset. “What’s going on? And don’t tell me it’s nothing.”
She exhaled and turned to place her back against the edge of the counter as the machine burped out her coffee. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she shook her head before she began to explain. “I stopped by the store on my way off the reservation and spoke with Mr. Quincey.”
“What did he say? Did he remember Pops coming up there?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to grab her coffee without answering. Cheyenne could deal with a lot of things but interrupting her while she was speaking was something that irritated her to no end. I waited while she poured some creamer into her cup before I said anything else.
“Sorry, darlin’. I’ve just been on edge the last couple days.”
She walked to the table under the window and took a seat in her spot. I joined her, reaching out and taking her hand into mine before I kissed the back and waited for her to explain.
“Mr. Quincey was nice, and he did remember Nitro’s visits.” I wanted to say something but bit my tongue. “I don’t know what to make of it, but he said Nitro would see Granny and my uncle occasionally when he was up there, but mostly, he was looking for something.”
She looked at me, so I inquired, “Did he say what he was looking for?”
She swallowed and cast her eyes to the side before bringing them back to me. Her words were filled with pain and worry as she said, “Mr. Quincey said Nitro was looking for the missing girls.”
“What missing girls?”
