by Lara Lacombe
His heart flip-flopped at the note of hope in her voice. “I’d like to think so.”
It didn’t take long to reach the site of the problem. Diego and Jose were already there, the former helping the latter manage on the uneven ground. Ruben stood a few feet away, hands on hips as he stared at the ground.
“How many?” Isabel slid to the ground and started for Ruben, intent on seeing the damage firsthand. Wyatt quickly dismounted and hurried after her; she was so focused on Ruben she wasn’t paying attention to the ground. She could step on or trip over another trap. The last thing she needed was another exposure of cyanide. She’d gotten lucky last time. She might not do as well after a second dose.
He caught up to her in a few strides. He scanned the ground as they walked toward Ruben, but he saw no signs of a trap. Still, he wasn’t about to relax.
Ruben approached, holding his hands up as he tried to stop Isabel. “There’s nothing you can do,” he said. “Don’t go getting in the middle of them—I’m not sure how many traps there are yet.”
She stopped, craning her neck to peer past his shoulder. Then she let out a soft cry that hit Wyatt like a slap. “Oh my God.”
He turned to look, knowing it must be bad. But he still felt a jolt as he surveyed the scene.
Five, six, he counted silently. No...ten.
It was a large number of animals. And worse still, Wyatt could tell by the rounded bellies that most of the cows had been pregnant.
Isabel stayed rooted to the spot, her eyes shiny with tears as she stared at the gruesome sight. Diego and Jose walked over to join them and, for a moment, there was silence as each person tried to process what had happened.
“Where’s the trap?” Diego’s voice was flat, as if he’d been drained of all emotion.
“Over here,” Ruben said, nodding to a spot in the middle of the bodies.
“Show me.” He passed Jose’s hand over to Isabel, who took it with a nod. Wyatt gave her a questioning look. She nodded again and he started off after Diego and Ruben.
He noticed the hay first. A trail of it leading to a larger pile, just like before. They stayed a good distance away from the spot, but from what he could see, it looked like the same kind of device that he and Isabel had found.
“Think this one has been modified, as well?”
Ruben gave him a sharp look. “Modified?”
Diego nodded. “Someone altered the last one so it would fire more easily.”
“Huh,” Ruben remarked. “I don’t know about this one. I didn’t get close enough to really inspect it.”
“There’s got to be more out here.”
“What makes you say that?” Diego asked.
Wyatt looked around. The bodies didn’t appear to be in any particular order, but there did seem to be a second concentration of them off to the left. “There are too many animals here. Even with modifications, I’d expect one trap to kill a few cows. But ten? That takes a lot of cyanide.”
“He’s right,” Diego said, eyes scanning the ground. “I wonder how many more are out here.”
“Look for the hay,” Wyatt suggested. “That seems to be what the saboteur is using to draw them in.”
A few yards away he found a dusting of hay that led back to a second larger pile. “Here,” he said, pointing.
“And here,” came Diego’s voice from somewhere behind him.
Three in one spot. Talk about escalation.
He turned to find Isabel. She was still standing at the periphery of the site, supporting her grandfather. Jose was clinging to her arm, clearly distraught over the loss of animals.
Diego walked over to his sister and Wyatt joined them. “Why don’t you head back to the house?” He pulled the keys to the truck from his pocket and handed them to her. “You can’t help them now and Abuelo needs to get out of the sun.”
“I should take samples,” she said, but Diego shook his head.
“No need. We know what happened here.”
“What are you going to do?” Jose’s voice was weak, but he held his head high.
“Dig up the traps. Deal with the carcasses.”
“Won’t you need the truck?”
“No.” Diego looked at Wyatt and then Ruben. “It would take too many trips back and forth to haul them in. We’ll establish a perimeter, do a controlled burn.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Isabel glanced at Wyatt, the worry plain in her eyes.
He gave her a reassuring nod. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “There’s no wind today. As long as we set it up right, we’ll be okay.”
“Why don’t you just let the sheriff’s department deal with the traps?” she suggested.
It was clear she didn’t like the thought of any of them disturbing the devices and, after her experiences, Wyatt didn’t blame her.
Diego stepped close and drew her into a hug. “Don’t fret, sis. I’ve got this.”
Isabel met Wyatt’s eyes over her brother’s shoulder. He gave her a small smile and a nod, trying to offer reassurance. “I’ll take care of him,” he promised, slapping Diego on the back.
“And who will take care of you?” she asked.
“I will.” They both turned to look at Diego.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t look so surprised. I’d never let anything happen to you.”
“So we’re friends again?” Wyatt wasn’t sure how far he could push Diego, but he was curious to know what the other man was thinking.
“Always.” Diego slid a glance toward his sister. “And I guess you belong to her, too.”
Isabel smiled broadly. “That he does. You’re both mine, and I want you both to stay safe.”
“We will,” they said in unison. They all smiled, but the moment of levity was short-lived.
“Who is doing this to us?” asked Jose. “And why?”
Diego frowned, all traces of humor gone from his face. “I don’t know, Abuelo. But we’re going to find out.”
Chapter 11
“Thank you, mija.” Abuelo’s voice was low, barely audible over the rumble of the truck’s engine as they sped along the highway.
Isabel reached out and took his weathered hand in her own. “No thanks necessary. I’m happy to help.”
They were headed home now, on the way back from Alpine. After leaving Diego, Ruben and Wyatt to deal with the dead animals and the cyanide traps, Abuelo had insisted on going to Alpine instead of to the ranch house.
“I want to take the DNA test now,” he’d said stubbornly. Recognizing the futility of protest, Isabel had made a quick stop at the ranch house and then set off again, delivering him to the testing lab in Alpine. Gabriel was long gone, but fortunately, Isabel had remembered the name of the company she’d seen on his phone screen. A quick search of her own had pulled up the address. The whole procedure had taken surprisingly little time. They’d filled out paperwork, paid a small fee, and then a smiling woman in blue scrubs had taken a few cheek swabs from Abuelo’s mouth.
“How long will this take?” he’d asked.
The woman lifted one shoulder as she sealed everything up and made sure the labels were correct. “Not long. We already have Mr. Richardson’s sample, and it’s a fairly straightforward process. You paid for expedited service, so I estimate we’ll have an answer for you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Excellent.”
Isabel had asked her grandfather if there was anything else he wanted to do in Alpine. They usually made the drive about once a month for supplies, so an extra trip into town was a bit of a treat.
He’d looked around, his eyes listless as he’d taken in the shops and cafés that lined the street. “No,” he’d said finally. “Let’s just go home.”
Isabel pressed a little harder on the accelerator, her thoughts focused on Wyatt and the mess he was helping to clean up. W
ere they almost done? Was he being safe? Hopefully no one had been hurt while dealing with the traps. Cell phone service out here was spotty at best, so if someone had been exposed to cyanide, it would take time for help to arrive.
She knew she’d gotten lucky the other day—she’d stumbled upon a single trap that had already fired, leaving behind only residue instead of a high concentration of toxin. Even so, that had been enough to put her in the hospital. Now the men were dealing with three traps, which meant three chances for disaster to strike. What if they hadn’t all been triggered? What if there was still a full dose of cyanide remaining in one of the traps, waiting to fire? Her brain conjured up a vision of Wyatt’s limp body in the dirt, his lips blue as he desperately gasped for air.
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the disturbing image. But her heart still pounded with worry.
“They are fine.” Abuelo patted her hand. “Try to relax.”
She didn’t bother to ask how he knew what she was thinking. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am. Your brother is impulsive, but he knows when to be careful. He will not take unnecessary risks.”
“Who is doing this to us?” She knew she sounded plaintive, but she’d spent most of her life looking to Abuelo for advice and reassurance. It was a hard habit to break.
“I do not know.” He was quiet for a moment, his mood pensive. “I have tried to live my life without hurting anyone. It seems that I have failed.”
“No.” She couldn’t stand to have Abuelo think that any of this was his fault. He was a kind man, a decent human being who had showed her nothing but love her whole life. How could anyone want to go after him like this? “You are not to blame here.”
“I wish I shared your confidence,” he said. “But it feels like whoever is setting these traps is trying to settle some kind of score.”
Isabel was beginning to suspect the same thing. The first trap had taken out three animals. Now they were dealing with three traps and ten dead cattle. Would there be another incident? Or did their faceless tormentor have something else in mind?
“What about Diego?” It was a possibility they’d discussed when she’d been in the hospital. “I’ve always known his bark is worse than his bite, but do you think he angered the wrong person?”
Abuelo sighed. “I’ve asked him that very question. He said he can’t think of anyone who might want to target the ranch in this way. I believe him.” She saw him shrug from the corner of her eye. “Diego tends to settle his disagreements quickly, sometimes with fists. It’s not the best way to handle problems, but it does seem to be effective. He doesn’t hold grudges, or nurse hurt feelings so they fester into something worse.”
“But do all his friends feel the same way?” It was one thing for Diego to forgive and forget quickly. Not everyone embraced that philosophy.
Abuelo shook his head. “Who can say?”
“I doubt Maria has any enemies,” Isabel said.
That earned her a laugh. “Of course not. No one would dare to cross her.”
“So that leaves me.” A stone of worry formed in her stomach as the implications sank in. She’d never thought of herself as the type of person to have adversaries. There were people she didn’t like, certainly, but she’d never had the kind of interaction that left her filled with hate, and she certainly didn’t think she’d triggered that kind of emotion in anyone else.
“I find it unlikely you could have done anything to cause this.”
She wanted to think her grandfather was right. But someone in the family had inspired these attacks. It pained her to think that one of her relatives was the object of such hate, but what other explanation was there? They hadn’t been picked at random. There was a reason her family and the ranch were being targeted in this way.
And she had a sinking suspicion that, until they figured out what it was, the hits would keep coming.
* * *
It was almost dark by the time Wyatt and Diego returned to the big house. He was tired down to his bones, but before he could go inside and collapse into Isabel’s arms, he needed to see to Ajax. The horse had done well today; they’d used him, Miel and Ruben’s mount to help position the carcasses of the dead cattle into a pile that they’d then set on fire. Ajax wasn’t trained as a ranch horse, but he’d been amazingly cooperative. It was as though he could sense the prevailing mood of frustration and anger, and was trying to help as best he could.
He and Diego led the horses into the far end of the stable; Ruben’s horse occupied a stall closer to the entrance. Wyatt removed the bridles and secured both mounts to loops on the wall while Diego filled two large buckets with water and placed one in front of each animal. While the horses drank, they removed the saddles and tack.
Wyatt grabbed two currycombs and passed one to Diego. There was something soothing about the repetitive motion of brushing Ajax, and he knew from experience his mount enjoyed this evening ritual very much.
“She’s doing better.” He nodded at Miel, who had her nose in the water bucket. “When I met her a couple of days ago, she was still shying around the scent of blood.” She’d balked a few times today, but Diego’s patient coaxing had helped her overcome her worry.
“Yeah.” Diego gave her an affectionate pat as he moved down her side with the comb. “We’ll make a cattle horse out of her yet.”
Wyatt was quiet a moment, letting the events of the day wash over him as he moved on autopilot. The three M44 traps they’d pulled from the ground all bore the same modifications as the one that Isabel had discovered. They’d all been baited the same way, too, with small piles of hay piled on top to attract the grazing cows.
Ten animals. He shook his head at the waste of it. Ten otherwise healthy cattle; more, if you considered the calves that had been days away from birth. Wyatt wasn’t certain how big the Cruz herd was, but a loss like this would likely have a large impact on their bottom line.
But while the financial implications of this loss were disturbing, Wyatt was more bothered by the fact that whoever was responsible for this sabotage was escalating.
“This isn’t going to stop.” He pitched his voice low, wanting to keep this conversation between the two of them.
Diego let out a heavy sigh. “I know.” He was silent a moment. “I just wish I knew why it was happening.”
Wyatt finished brushing one side of Ajax and circled around to the other, putting him closer to Diego. “Does it matter?”
Diego opened his mouth but Wyatt continued before he could speak. “I know it matters in the larger scheme of things. Of course, the motive is important. But worrying about why it’s happening isn’t going to get us any closer to figuring out who is doing it and how they’re getting away with it.”
“They’re getting away with it because we have no way of monitoring every inch of our land.” Diego sounded frustrated. Miel shifted and his face softened. He eased up on the pressure of the comb and she settled down again. “I’d love to upgrade the perimeter fencing, but we don’t have the funds. The few cameras we do have don’t cover enough of the property. And we’re too far away from the border with Mexico for the Border Patrol to care about monitoring traffic out here.”
He shook his head. “Isabel is pushing for us to downsize as much as we can, but Abuelo is fighting her at every turn. He thinks we’re giving up. I’m trying to make him see we need to shrink so that we can keep the ranch going—she and I do agree on that point. That’s why she’s so gung-ho about the offer from the energy company.” He bent at the waist and began to rub Miel’s lower legs with a towel. “Those funds would be a real shot in the arm for us. But I just can’t help but think we’d be trading short-term benefits for long-term problems.”
“Why do you do it?” Wyatt asked. He exchanged the currycomb for a stiff brush and began to flick the dirt off Ajax’s hide. Diego was painting a bleak picture of the challenges the ranch
faced. “You don’t have to be a rancher,” he said. “Once upon a time, you wanted to coach baseball.”
Diego huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.” He straightened, shrugged. “Times change. The more I got involved with the business of the ranch, the more it appealed to me. And it’s tradition, after all.”
“You can’t separate the ranch from your family, can you?”
His friend glanced at him, eyes flaring wide with surprise. It was all the confirmation Wyatt needed that his remark had hit home.
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Wyatt had no words to offer Diego. For the first time, he realized his friend might be giving up more than he let on to keep the ranch alive. Sympathy welled in Wyatt’s chest. Was Diego living life on his own terms, or was he so bound by expectations that he was sacrificing his own happiness to keep someone else’s dream alive?
“I can’t let it fail.” Diego’s voice was barely audible over the sounds of the brushes and the horses’ breathing. “The Cruz family is this ranch—the two are entwined.”
“I know it seems that way,” Wyatt said carefully. “But deep down, I hope you realize that’s not true. You don’t have to carry on if it’s not what you want.”
“I do, though,” he replied. “This is my legacy. I want to preserve it and pass it on to my children someday. But we have to change with the world. I don’t want to be the one to sink us because we remained stuck in the old ways.”
“I think your sister feels the same way.” He’d seen it on her face when they’d talked about why she’d come back. Isabel loved this land, loved her family. She was proud of the history of the ranch, and he knew she was determined to do her part to keep it going.
Even though he thought drilling was the wrong choice.
Diego nodded. “She does. We just disagree on how to move forward.”
Wyatt realized he had to be careful here. He wanted to help bridge the distance between two people he loved, but he didn’t want to insert himself into the middle of their relationship. So he opted to remain neutral.