Page 4 of My Apocalypse Cowboy
"Ranch hand. Worked my family's place until the Silver Creek Raiders decided they liked our land better than their own."
"I'm sorry."
"Long time ago." Though it doesn't feel like it some days. "What made you choose Clearwater?"
"They needed someone with medical training, even incomplete. I could treat basic injuries, help with births—human and animal both. Seemed like a good fit."
"Until four days ago."
Her face goes tight. "Iron Wolves showed up and took over. No negotiation, no warning. I grabbed what I could and ran."
"Smart. The Wolves don't take prisoners, don't leave witnesses if they can help it."
"You know them?"
"Knowofthem. They've been moving through the territory for six months, taking over smaller settlements. Usually, they just demand tribute. Half your supplies, some of your people. But lately..." I shrug. "Lately they've been less interested in negotiation."
She's quiet for a moment, processing that. "Do you think they'll come here?"
It's the question I've been asking myself since she mentioned Clearwater. My operation isn't exactly secret—I trade regularly with Old Pines and two other settlements. Word gets around. And twenty head of cattle might not sound like much, but it's steady protein in a world where that's worth its weight in gold. Or more, because you can’t eat gold.
"Maybe," I say honestly. "That's why I keep the herd in the back pastures, and move them regularly. Harder to spot from the main trails."
"But not impossible."
"Nothing's impossible. Just more or less likely." I lean back in my chair, studying her. "Question is, are you going to help or hinder if they do show up?"
She meets my eyes steadily. "I don't run from fights I can win."
"And if you can't win?"
"Then I run tactically. Big difference."
I find myself grinning. "Good answer."
She almost smiles back, and for a moment, the exhaustion and wariness lift from her face. She's prettier than I thought—not just pretty, but striking. The kind of woman who'd turn heads in the old world, and definitely the kind who'll cause complications in my carefully ordered new one.
But complications might be worth it, if she can really pull her weight around here.
"So," she says, finishing the last of her bread. "What exactly does one month of ranch work entail?"
"Cattle management, mainly. Moving herds between pastures, checking fences, basic veterinary care." I pause. "You ever ridden a horse?"
"Some. It's been a while."
"You'll need to get comfortable fast. Most of the work's done on horseback."
"What about predators? Not just human ones."
"Wolves, mostly. Some coyotes. The occasional cougar, though they usually stick to smaller prey." I drain the last of my coffee. "Nothing a rifle can't handle, if you know how to use one."
"I can shoot."
"How well?"
"Well enough to keep your cattle from becoming predator food."
Another good answer. I'm starting to think this arrangement might actually work out.
