No White Knight

It’s past time to go.

Fuck, if this is why Libby’s been trying to keep me away from here, I’ve got a few questions.

And I’m gonna be asking, whether or not she owes me any answers.

7

All Opposed, Say “Neigh” (Libby)

One thing about running a ranch is that you almost never get a full night’s sleep.

I’m used to being up at dawn, but sometimes I get woken up. Coyotes get past the fences and start messing with my sheep, or something spooks the horses, or I get a buzzard or an owl trapped in the rafters, just shrieking and flapping around everywhere.

This time, it’s the damn coyotes again.

Sniffing around the barn, for once, but all it took was a single shot in the air to send them scampering off with their tails between their legs.

I’ve had enough of cowards for a lifetime.

But I’m not thinking about that right now.

Even if I’m tired as hell out here in my pajama shirt and ripped up jeans; even if it’s after midnight…

I can’t help but stop and stare at the stars, resting in the saddle with Frost’s solid bulk warm and comforting beneath me, anchoring me to Earth.

It shouldn’t hurt like it still does.

Tilting my head up to the sky, I look for the North Star first, just like Dad always taught me.

Find true north to orient yourself, and from there, everything else just sorts itself out.

From the North Star to the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Aquila. Cygnus. Sagittarius.

I know them.

He engraved them on my heart and made them so important to me because they were important to him.

It was hard after Mama died and Sierra ran away.

Somehow, in a short space of time, we went from a family of four to just two lonely people sitting out here with no freaking clue how to make it work.

Falling apart.

Until one night, Dad took me outside, and we sat on the back porch and charted the night sky together.

It was something we’d done ever since I was a little girl, but that night was special.

It helped put our world back in place and reminded us we were more than our sadness.

That we weren’t just two lonely people banging around inside a ranch house that was too big for us.

That out there were millions, billions, countless stars shining down.

And as long as we could reach up and spread our fingers to sift through the sky and name those lights, we weren’t lonely.

We were gonna be okay.

Well, I’m not okay now.

I’m so not okay, gazing up at the sky and pressing my lips together to keep from crying. I clutch my Aries pendant like it can hold me together when I’m almost crushing the fragile silver threads.

No, I’m not gonna break. Not gonna lose my mind.

But I feel damn close right now, searching the sky for Aries even though it won’t be visible until late fall.

I just want to see it so I won’t be alone.

So I’ll feel like Dad’s with me, across space and time.

My eyes are still burning when something drifts into my vision. I squint harder.

Yep. There’s a shape out there by the entrance to Nowhere Lane.

I sure as hell ain’t imagining that dark silhouette moving through the brush like they’re trying to be cute and not get spotted.

My pulse picks up.

I haven’t spent half my life tracking cougars and vultures and God only knows what else for nothing. I can spot a grown-ass man under a bright, starry night sky.

My teeth pinch together.

Whoever he is, he’s about to get himself a butt full of buckshot.

It’s got to be Declan or Reid Cherish, I think, poking around where they don’t belong. Acting like this land is already theirs.

Might even be prowlers with worse intentions.

Word gets around in this little town.

Some opportunists might be scoping the place out, looking to see if they want to buy once the bank’s put it up for grabs, but knowing I’d run them off in broad daylight.

With my teeth bared, I tap Frost’s side.

The Vanner perks his head up, shaking his mane like he’s gearing up for battle.

That’s my boy.

Even though I woke him up from a dead sleep to do the rounds, he’s spry as he arcs forward in long, stretching leaps, his neck out. I pull my shotgun from the saddle holster, finger light on the trigger.

Frost picks up speed, thundering to a gallop, leaping the fence agilely and coming down hard on the other side, smart and quick enough to not even come near plowing into the ditch.

We go careening up the narrow strip between the fence and the ditch, surging toward that fleeing silhouette.

I swear, I’ll run Mister Intruder right down.

“Stop right there!” I shout. “I can see you, and you ain’t gonna scurry faster than a horse can run, you rat!”