Page 36 of Forgotten

“Go, go, go!” I shouted.

Panicked, we ran toward the animals, me taking off toward the horse while Logan went after one of the pigs that had sauntered out toward the road but hadn’t crossed it yet. He tried to guide them in as I grabbed the horse by the neck and calmed her down. It was Bently, the only foal our mama’s personal horse, Sunshine, ever had.

“Come on, Bently, come on boy,” I said, guiding him off the road and back around toward the fence.

I didn’t have a harness or anything else, so all I could do was try to guide him by the neck or hop on him bareback. If he didn’t follow me, I’d have to hop on him, and I had no idea how that would go.

Thankfully, Bently didn’t fight, and I was able to get him back to the broken area of the fence and into the field, where I slapped his rump and he took off for the barn. All that was left now were the chickens, who, while not the smartest animals in the world, at least were smart enough not to stand in the middle of the road. After a few minutes of chasing, Logan and I had collected them all and brought them back into our field.

“What the hell happened here?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t a storm,” I said. “Look, this looks like it was chopped in half.”

Logan looked down at the place I was pointing to. Several beams had been either removed or destroyed, leaving three whole sections where animals could escape. I scanned each spot and saw some of the same signs on each, anger building in my chest with the dawning realization that this wasn’t an accident.

It was sabotage.

“You think it’s some dumb kids?” Logan asked. “There was that little group of teenagers who broke into the Crocketts’ barn that time a couple years ago.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “This doesn’t look like the work of some dumb kids. This was purposefully letting animals out. Whoever did this snuck onto the land, let the animals out first, then broke the fences and encouraged them to leave. Then they got the hell out of here fast.”

“Unless they’re still on the land.”

Logan and I stared at each other for a long moment.

“We can’t just leave the fence like this,” I said. “One of us will have to stay here and fix it.”

“I’ll go check out the barns and stuff. See if I see anything.”

I nodded, and Logan took off, heading across the fields toward the various barns and pens where animals were kept. Since Owen hadn’t gotten home yet, most of them should still be locked up, making it easy to account for everybody. Meanwhile, I took a look at the fence and tried to see if I could piece it back together at least partially. The fence itself didn’t need to be all that strong, it just needed to be sturdy enough that it wouldn’t fall apart if an animal touched it.

I was able to cobble together enough to get one section fixed up temporarily while Logan was gone, and when he returned, I could tell by his expression that he hadn’t found anything. The shotgun was still in his hands, but he was carrying it low, clearly annoyed.

“Nothing?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said. “Just the ones we got out of the road. Whoever did it wasn’t very thorough.”

“I don’t think they aimed to be,” I said. “I think this was a message rather than a mission. You know? Whoever did this wanted us to be afraid.”

“You think it was Arn?”

I didn’t answer at first, letting it roll around in my mind. I had to admit it was my first thought. But I tried to keep my mind open to all possibilities. Yet, one by one, all the others seemed less plausible.

“Probably,” I said. “Do you remember when Amber first came back to town and Luke and Collin had to help her rescue Mrs. Miller’s cow, Hessa?”

“I do,” he said.

“I remember Luke said something strange about it. He said it had branches down over it like it had fallen and broken the fence, but the beams themselves looked like they’d been cut in half. He said it looked weird.”

“I called Luke. He should be here in a minute. He’s just across the street.”

“Good,” I said. “Because someone’s going to have to go with me up to the station and keep me from getting arrested.”

Luke was at the house just a few minutes later and came down to where we stood by the fence in the farm use truck, bearing all the wood and tools we’d need to fix the fence. Hopping out, not saying a word, he went to work, and the three of us got the fence functional in just a little bit of time, wrapping barbed wire to keep them all together and in place with the others.

“I heard you wanted to go up to the sheriff’s office,” Luke muttered as he put the tools back in the truck.

“I do,” I said.

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