by Sable Hunter
Ring! Ring!
The cell going on by her bed caused Cassie to jump as if she’d been caught red-handed. “What in the world?” Hastily, she wiped her damp fingers on her sheet before she grabbed the phone. “Hello?” Her heart was beating a mile a minute.
“What are you doing, angel?”
Bowie!
“Uh, uh…” she started. “I was…nothing,” she stammered.
Bowie cleared his throat, then he chuckled. “Is there a man in your bed, Cassie?” He knew better, or he thought he did, but Bowie couldn’t help the niggle of jealousy that wormed its way up his spine.
“No.” He heard her huff in that husky little voice.
“So, what were you doing?” He didn’t know why he was pushing her, but for some reason he sensed she’d been doing something—important, something to do with him.
Cassie blanched, then blushed, then trembled. No way was she admitting to Bowie Malone that she was masturbating! No way! “I was…dreaming…and the ringing of the phone startled me awake.” There! It was a lie, but it was all he was getting.
“Okayyy.” Maybe he was mistaken. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I just wanted to hear your voice.” He wasn’t talking very loud because he was in the Denver airport, about to switch flights. “I’m waiting on a plane.” Looking at his watch, he realized what time it was. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”
“No!” she shouted, then realized she’d sounded totally foolish. “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you did.”
“Really?” He wanted her to be glad. “I’ve heard from the Ranger Station in Alberta, the hiker we’re looking for was rappelling near Bass Buttress on Castle Mountain, which means I’ll be going in on horseback.”
“Be careful!” She cautioned him. “I worry about you so.”
He smiled. “I like for you to worry.”
“What?”
“Shoot, that came out wrong. I don’t want you to worry, but I’m glad you care.” That sounded better.
“I do.” She did care. “You’re my friend,” Cassie hastened to add, not wanting him to think she felt more than he wanted her to feel. Goodness! That thought snarled up in her head.
“Cassie, do you remember that kiss I gave you?”
How could she forget? “Yes.”
“I’m going to want another one of those as soon as I get home.”
Excitement sparkled in her heart and mind—she felt it all over, even down in the tender places she’d touched earlier. “When will that be?”
Her anxious sounding voice made him snort. “I can’t tell if you’re looking forward to it, or if you’re dreading it.”
Cassie inhaled sharply. “I don’t dread it.”
“Good.”
“When?” She knew she was pushing it.
“I’m hoping I can get through here in a couple of days. Then, I need to put in a good four day’s work with my partner building some roads and drill sites for an oil company.”
“You are very busy.” His life was full. She felt guilty for wanting to spend time with him.
“Not too busy for you,” he told her. “I gotta go, they’re calling my flight. I’ll call you when I get back in the states.”
“Thanks for calling me, Bowie.” The words rushed from her mouth.
“Bye, sugar.”
With that he was gone. Setting the phone on the table, she laid back and let out a small squeal. “Arggggg!” she exclaimed.
There was one thing Cassie knew for certain—the only thing scarier than having Bowie in her life…was not having him in her life.
* * *
The jagged peaks of the Canadian rockets seemed to tear holes in the low hanging clouds. Bowie pulled his jacket around him as snow swirled in ever-increasing eddies in the wind.
“Do you think we’ll find him?” Tanner asked as he shifted in the saddle. The big roan he was riding slipped on a rock and both man and horse dipped sharply, but the stallion caught his footing. Neither man said anything. This was a normal occurrence when riding off-trail in mountainous territory.
“We’ll have to find him soon,” Bowie answered Tanner’s obvious question. If they were to find him alive, they needed to find him soon was what both of them knew he meant.
They’d been tracking partners for three years now. Tanner had hired on with the McCoys for a while, until he got a job with the Freeman Ranch as a horse trainer. “I don’t see any vultures.”
“That’s always a good sign. I’m worried about his age, though. I think Mr. Edge is over sixty.” Bowie looked over at his partner. “Speaking of vultures, since you work at Freeman, do you ever go over to the body farm?” Freeman Ranch wasn’t your normal ranch, it was more, much more. Managed by Texas State University to serve as an educational model for ranch management, it was used regularly for educational outreach and visited by many students annually. But that wasn’t all. One of the things studied on the Freeman Ranch was how the body decomposes under various circumstances at the Forensic Anthropology Center.
Tanner didn’t look directly at Bowie, he kept scanning the horizon. They both knew to look for any little sign, not just smoke but a reflection, a spot of bright color—any indication that a human was trying to make their location known in the vast wilderness which spread before them. “Yea, I go over there occasionally,” he answered dryly.
“Pretty creepy place?” Bowie had seen some strange things in his life, but even he had a hard time wrapping his head around a place where real human bodies were set out to decay in varying and disturbing circumstances. He knew it was for a purpose, what forensic pathologists learned there helped them to solve many crimes and helped many people, but knowing the displays weren’t mannequins or dummies but real people who were loved by someone just boggled his mind.
“Not your run of the mill twenty-six acres, that’s for sure.” Tanner pushed his hat up on his head. “You know people donate their bodies for medical research, most of the time for use in an anatomy class, easiest way to get into medical school, I guess.” He chuckled. “We pulled a good one on Lomax Richards. We knew he’d been pulled off barn duty to go over and fix a water leak at the body farm. So, we worried Dr. Holmes until he let us set up a stunt.” He paused for a second while a white-tail deer ran across their path. “There was one spot where—”
Bowie held up his hand. “Something might’ve spooked that deer, let’s go check it out.” They turned downstream near a small creek which wound its way at the base of one of the first foothills, Tanner taking the lead.
“Anyway, you know they have all kinds of scenarios—bodies in car trunks, suitcases, pools of water, up in the trees, hanging by nooses.” Bowie wanted to smile. Tanner was just enjoying all of this way too much. “There are a few spots on the grounds where they just lay the corpse out in the open. So, we set up our own crime scene. Except, Petey wasn’t dead. We fixed him up with a ragged shirt and smeared dirt all over him and draped him out across a log.”
Bowie could see where this was going and he was listening, but he was also keeping his eyes peeled on the trail ahead. Something wasn’t quite right.
“Are you listening to me?” When Bowie smiled and answered with a ‘yeah,’ Tanner continued. “Well, Lomax is a little superstitious and had dreaded going over there where all of those dead bodies were, I mean he claims to have seen a ghost before, so we had this rigged good. Even put up a couple of game cameras so we’d have the moment recorded for posterity, or America’s Funniest Videos,” he added with a laugh. “We watched Lomax eye Petey’s body and give a little shiver. He’d rather have been anywhere in the world besides in that body farm working next to a dead man. We waited awhile, giving Lomax a chance to really get into his work before we gave Petey the signal.” Tanner chuckled again. “Well, you can imagine what happened. Petey groaned, Lomax froze, Petey began to rise up and Lomax took off like a ruptured red bug, screaming to the top of—”
“Hold it, Tanner. Be quiet.” Tanner had been talking, but Bowie had
quit listening. If he wasn’t mistaken the trackers were being tracked.
Tanner did as he was bid. He was experienced enough to know that anything could happen in the wilderness. Even the horses seemed to pick up on Bowie’s concern, their nostrils flaring. They could sense something the men couldn’t.
Bowie listened. Everything was quiet, too quiet. It seemed as if the birds had even abandoned the area. Tanner slowly turned to look at Bowie and when he did, his eyes widened. “Gun, behind you. Now!” he yelled. Bowie didn’t quibble. He grabbed the rifle and dismounted in one quick, seamless motion. Even before he saw what he was aiming at, he had the rifle cocked and ready. Tanner was only a heartbeat behind. To their amazement, three huge timber wolves were almost on top of them. One lunged at Bowie, causing his horse to jump and fall. The horse recovered its balance, but the action had caused both men to lose their stance. Before he could recover, Bowie found himself face to face with a snarling wolf. He had seen wolves before, but none that had ever acted like this. Its teeth were bared, this wolf meant business. An even bigger male was stalking toward Tanner, seemingly unafraid. With a growl, he leaped as Tanner fired a shot that took him down. The noise seemed to activate the wolf in front of Bowie and he charged toward him, forcing Bowie to shoot him almost point-blank. The third wolf retreated and in a few moments, both men stood there—stunned.
“What the hell happened?” Tanner was flabbergasted. “Wolves don’t attack people like that, not that I’ve ever heard of.”
“Not normally, something set them off.” Bowie examined the two large wolves. He knew the Canadian rangers would want to examine them to ascertain if they were rabid, but Bowie didn’t think they were. “These wolves were scared. They were protecting their territory.”
“But biologists say—”
“Biologists don’t know everything.” Bowie cut him off. “Let me tell you what happened to my uncle Michael.” He replaced his rifle in the scabbard and prepared to remount. “He once went squirrel hunting in East Texas. He was following an old abandoned logging road, heading to a creek where there was a particularly good spot with several huge oaks on a bluff. Squirrels were known to nest in those trees, so he felt he had a good chance of bagging several.” Bowie settled into the saddle while Tanner tended to his horse. “He’d set out before dawn, so it was nearly dark as he made his way down the overgrown trail.”
Tanner laughed. “You’re a better storyteller than me.”
“True.” Bowie chuckled, glad of their conversation. His heart rate was just now coming back to normal. “Like I did earlier, Uncle sensed something as he walked along. He kept looking over his shoulder, but he didn’t see anything. Finally, he settled himself near the creek at the base of the bluff to wait for squirrels. But the feeling he was being watched just wouldn’t go away. He kept looking left, then right—finally, he looked up and when he did there was a huge timber wolf looking down at him. My uncle sprang up and the wolf leaped off on top of him.”
“What happened? Did it kill your uncle?”
Bowie laughed. “No, you saw him last week.”
Tanner snorted. “I thought you might have another uncle.”
“No, one’s enough. He shot the wolf before it hit the ground, but that just goes to show they will attack.”
“I’m convinced.” Tanner motioned to the wolf carcasses.
They had no more than started down the trail again until they heard it. A human voice.
And it was screaming for help.
“This way. Hurry.” Tanner took off down the way they had started. They traveled not more than a thousand yards before they found their hiker. Mr. Edge had stepped into a bear trap. “Thank God, thank God,” he kept saying over and over again. Tanner got down from his horse to aid him while Bowie radioed for a helicopter.
“How is he?” Bowie walked up after having called for help.
“His leg is broken, but his boots saved him from bleeding to death.” The man was weak and seemed confused.
“He didn’t set that trap,” Bowie surmised. “I’m going to take a look around.” Knowing how the wolves had reacted, Bowie started looking. He didn’t have to look far. As he traversed the edge of the creek, he found several traps. No more bear, but he also found a wolf trap with a dead female in it. She had attempted to chew her leg off and had died from blood loss. Past that he found yet another wolf trap and down at the creek there was evidence of a beaver trap. He made his way back to Tanner. “Someone has just littered this whole area with traps. No wonder the wolves were spooked and acting crazy.”
They waited with the man, giving him water and a power bar to eat, all the time watching out for any further danger. It wasn’t long before help arrived, the ranger station had been on alert in hopes the trackers would locate him. In this terrain, normal police or rescue teams were useless. Horseback was the only way to do any real searching other than what could be done by air.
As soon as the copter lifted off, the two men started down the mountain. “Bear trapping is illegal in Canada, isn’t it?”
“Yea, it is.” Bowie nodded, replacing his hat after dusting it off on his jeans.
“I hunt, I always have, but I can’t see torturing an animal.” Tanner mused as they rode along.
“I don’t hunt, not anymore,” Bowie replied evenly.
“Not anymore? What do you mean?”
Bowie shook his head. “It was a long time ago,” he began, then paused. “I shot a little girl.”
“You what?” Tanner’s voice sounded shocked.
It was a good sixty seconds before Bowie answered. “It was an accident.”
“Well, of course, of that I had no doubt.”
“A friend and I were shooting at a target, we didn’t realize anyone was behind it.”
“Did…did you kill her?” Tanner’s voice was hesitant.
“No,” Bowie said as he let out a long sigh. “At least I don’t think she died. My folks just pulled away from it. We never talked about it. We moved. To this day I don’t know what her name is, my whole family acts like it never happened.”
“Something like that has to be hard to get over.” Tanner eased his horse up close to Bowie. “I’m sorry you had to go through it.”
Bowie waved his hand. “She’s the one who suffered. I got off light.”
“Doesn’t seem like you got off light to me. How often do you think about it?”
“There are days I don’t think about it at all, but I dream about it pretty often. I just hope they saved her.”
“Why don’t you ask someone? Check it out? It can’t be that hard to find out something about an event that would have surely made the papers.”
“Maybe,” Bowie conceded. “Maybe I just don’t want to know.”
* * *
Cassie closed the gift box, the candle for little Bowie McCoy was finished. She patted the small card she’d added which described the significance of all the extras she’d artistically arranged in the wax. Cassie was proud of her work. Hopefully, her Bowie would like it.
Her Bowie.
Cassie giggled and sighed. “My Bowie, yeah right.” Yet…he had picked up the habit of contacting her at six each evening. The past three days, just like clockwork, he’d called. Glancing at the VCR, she saw it was almost that time. Unable to do anything else, she rolled to the table and picked up the phone—waiting.
What was happening between them, she really couldn’t explain. There were times when she could almost believe he was flirting with her and others when he seemed almost brotherly. Either way, she was fast becoming addicted to him and his attention. Protecting herself wasn’t even a factor anymore. Bowie had already captured her heart, now she just hoped he didn’t break it.
Ring! Ring!
Right on the nose, Cassie gasped for joy. “Hello?”
“Hey, angel, how are you?”
“Spoiled,” she admitted freely. “These daily phone calls are becoming a habit.”
“Exactly, get used to it,”
he promised. “What’s my girl doing today?”
Melting. Swooning.
“I just finished a candle.” She didn’t say it was for the baby. If Bowie liked it, she planned on making one specifically for him. “When we get off the phone, I’m going out to gather eggs.”
“Wait. How cold is it there? You’d better wear a coat. Can’t it wait till I get back?”
His attentiveness gave her shiver bumps. “I do it every day, Bowie. I’m fine.”
Bowie didn’t like it. He could just see her gallivanting out in the brush hunting eggs and getting her wheelchair hung on a root and having to sit out in the freezing weather all night. “Call me when you get back in so I can sleep.”
Awwww, her heart dipped in her chest. “Call you?”
“Yes, as soon as you get back in. I’ll sit right here till you do.”
“What are you doing?” She imagined him at some bar, surrounded by women.
“I’m in my truck. George and I just finished talking to the site manager where we’re building some drilling pads. Next we’re going to go get some Mexican food. George is coming home tomorrow. We have a new smoothing drum being delivered to my house. He’s supposed to be there to meet them and get it loaded on a trailer to bring back down here.”
“So, you’re not coming yet?” The longing in her voice was hard to hide.
“Do you want me to come home? Are you thinking about that kiss I want?”
Cassie found it hard to breathe. “Yes.”
“Damn, I just might have to change my plans and come home tomorrow.”
“That would be good.” She knew she was whispering, but she was at a true loss for words. Like she’d told him before, sometimes she just didn’t know what to do with him.
“Whew!” Bowie blew out a harsh breath. “You’re dynamite, even over the phone. Go gather those eggs girl and let me try to get control.”
“Okay.”