Page 120 of Wrangled

When was the last time I’d been this happy? Yet it was a weird happiness, tinged with a sense of… I wasn’t sure what it was. Impending doom was far too strong a term, but yeah, I felt as though something was hovering over me, ready to drop, to push me into the ground. I knew what lay at the heart of it, and although my scenes with Toby pushed my anxiety into the background, they didn’t stay gone. All it took to bring it back with a vengeance was the thought that I needed to make the most of the good feelings, because when he left, they’d leave with him.

It was more like aHappy—for now.

But is that enough?

And what the hell do I have to be anxious about? Why is it manifestingnow?

I considered the last five years. I’d spent most of them feeling depressed, not that I’d ever sought medical help, so maybe my anxiety hadn’t come to the surface. But now, with the depression having lifted to a point, it was possible that had allowed other emotions to rise to the surface, to become more pronounced.

Lord, the irony… The one thing I knew would relieve my anxiety was about to get on a plane and head back to San Francisco, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.

We were finally on our way, about six hundred head of cattle moving south, mooing constantly. As we rode along, I watched the sun rise over the mountains to our left, spilling its light onto the land before us.

“That’s so beautiful,” Toby said as he caught up with me.

“Wait till you watch the sunset tonight. I swear, the way it catches the snow-capped peaks, it looks as if the mountains are on fire.” I glanced at him. “Is it what you expected?”

“It’s so much more. I can see why Declan keeps coming back.” He flung his arm out. “All this wide-open space. Beautiful country.” He sagged in the saddle. “A man could be truly happy here.”

I disagreed. It was a great life, sure, but it wasn’t enough. For a while, I’d gotten awful close to being truly happy, but it had slipped through my fingers.

I had the feeling it was about to get slippery again.

He gestured to the hands, riding in formation. “Do they all have assigned positions, or is it more random than that?”

I chuckled. “Okay, cattle drive 101.” I pointed way in front, to where Teague and Butch rode out ahead of the herd. “Those two are point men. They determine the direction of the herd, they control its speed. Plus, they give the cattle something to follow. And they’re point men because they have the most experience.”

“Gotcha. Okay, what about the others?”

I pointed ahead. “Walt and Zeeb are swing riders. That means they ride on either side, about a third of the way behind Teague and Butch. Their job is to keep the herd together. They’re basically on the lookout for any animals that might try to break away. Zeeb’s been doing this for nine years, Walt, maybe four years.”

“And what about Declan and Kyle, farther back from them?”

“They’re drag riders. They keep the herd moving, pushing the slower animals forward. Declan’s done this before. And right at the back we have Matt driving the chuckwagon, and Paul who rides with him. Oh, and Garrett is riding alongside.”

“Paul’s the wrangler, right?”

I smiled. “You’re learning. We’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

He peered at the line of cattle that swelled in the middle, its widest point. “They seem to know where they’re going.”

I chuckled. “The reason we have all these riders? Cows don’t always go where you want them to.” I glanced at his clothing. “You’ve come prepared for the weather, at least.” Clouds hung heavy over the horizon, and I knew we were in for rain. The forecast promised a break in the weather the following day, however.

Toby watched the dogs as they sprinted alongside the herd. “I haven’t seen them before.”

“The two Border Kelpies belong to Kyle, and the Australian Shepherd is Owen’s. A maverick steps out of line, and they’re on it.”

“Maverick?”

“That’s an unbranded calf.”

Toby frowned. “Are there any bulls out there?”

I laughed. “Hell no, just mothers and their calves. The only procreation on Salvation happens whenwewant it to happen. That’s why we’re careful not to let a bull anywhere near the cows. You think about it. If someone toldyouwhen you could fuck, and kept you—”

“In a cock cage,” he said with a smile.

I gave him a mock glare. “Yeah, exactly. Well, how do you thinkyou’dreact if you got loose among a herd of cows?” I sighed. “This is nothing like the cattle drives of the past, but we’ll keep doing what we’re doing. We have to leave something for the next generation, right?”

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