Page 15 of Love Me Dangerous

Linnie frowns. “Out here?”

“Finn River owns everything on the other side of the river.”

“Oh.” She squints again. “Do they hunt there?”

With a pop, the wire breaks free, thankfully not springing the rest of the fence into my face. “They can give permission.”

“Do they?”

“I don’t know. Ask Dad.” The minute I say it, I regret my frustrated tone. “We don’t get a say. The land belongs to them.”

Linnie’s mouth tightens. “The animals were here first.”

“The animals still have lots of places left.” This is why The Winter Range Project is so important. The Idaho Fish & Wildlife Department estimates there are over 5,000 miles of old barbed wire blocking migration routes. If the deer and elk can’t get to their winter ranges, they won’t survive the long winters.

I no longer hear the engine, but whoever’s driving might be tucked into one of the gulches farther up the valley.

We finish the section spanning the meadow and eat lunch in a shady spot where we can play a pebble-tossing game I made up for Linnea when she was little. I don’t notice the hum of a truck’s engine until it’s practically upon us, with a plume of dust rising up behind it. It’s a silver Finn River Ranch work truck.

In the back are barbed wire and stacks of sanded fence posts—the kind in use all over the ranch. The kind I’ve been lobbying to replace.

What the hell?

It’s as if the driver feels my eyes on him because he glances up. Though the cab is shaded, I know that face.

Zach.

I stare, frozen in place, as Zach turns away and accelerates over a rise, leaving only the dust whirling in his wake.

If Linnie wasn’t with me, I’d be tempted to follow him.

What the hell is he doing in Finn River? Where did he come from? And why is he building fences when Finn River Ranch has pledged to support the needs of the wild animals who need access to their winter ranges?

But I don’t have the ability to give chase. I don’t even know how to track Zach down. It’s been a week since he started Stu’s mystery “in the field” project, but no sign of him since. I want him to explain that look he gave me. Am I supposed to forget he saved my life?

There has to be a way to find outmore about him.

But first, I’m going to find out where the ranch is building new fencing.

“You feel like exploring for a bit before we get back to work?”

Linnie’s eyes light up. “Yeah!”

I offer her my hand to help her up. “Let’s go.”

The horses are reluctant to leave their shady spot, but we get underway soon enough. An afternoon breeze brings the scent of the high country—cool and flinty.

We ride for an hour, following the old sheep fencing until it butts up against a rock outcropping. From the tufts of fur caught on the metal post bent with age and the game trail leading into the mountains, it’s clear wildlife slip through the gap. I’m scanning the length of Finn River Ranch fencing, looking for the answer to my question, when Linnie draws in a quick breath.

Julep pricks her ears and jerks her head a split second before I see the bundle.

“What’s that?” Linnie asks.

“Someone’s camp,” I reply. Dad runs into these sometimes. I’ll need to tell him about it.

I spur Julep on. We skirt the lower edge of the rock outcropping and stop at the edge of the trees, where a faded green tarp partially covers an equally faded bedroll and what looks like a mesh bag of dried pinto beans. Is this camp related to the spooky rockfall we heard earlier? A shiver runs down my spine. I’m glad I don’t have to confront whoever’s living here. But it means we should probably turn around before we do.

I pickup Ava at her dad’s since it’s on the way to the ranch and she promised me donuts. The mountain peaks are kissed with crimson in the early dawn, and by the time we pull away from the curb, the stars have melted into the sky.

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