Page 1 of Toxic

CHAPTER 1

Billie

The sun was rising over the horizon line as I finished saddling up my horse, Hank. Morning was my favorite time. The sunrises in Arizona were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. All the pinks and purples painting the sky and nearby mountains just took my breath away.

Not that I’d ever lived anywhere else. Or traveled much. There wasn’t time. There were always animals that needed feeding and fences that needed mending. Life wasn’t slow on a ranch. It was day after day filled with hard work and sweat. And dirt. Did I mention the dirt?

I smoothed my long dark hair back into a quick ponytail for the ride so it wouldn’t blow into my face. Slapping my cowboy hat on my thigh, I dusted it off before stuffing it on my head and pulling myself up into the saddle. Grandpa was getting too old to ride fences, so that was my self-appointed job.

We’d had a full crew of ranch hands last year to help with everything, but one by one they’d disappeared on us. Frowning, I grabbed the reins and pointed Hank out toward the south fences. My shrill whistle cut through the morning quiet and my blue heeler, Eris, came trotting up, tongue lolling as she ran beside my horse.

It wasn’t like our crew to leave and not tell us why. They didn’t have a problem working for a woman. Most of the guys we’d employed for years. Our foreman, Beady, had been the only one to let us know that someone had paid our guys to go work somewhere else, though he wouldn’t tell me where. Or who.

Now it was only me and Grandpa and I was getting more and more worried by the day. He was too old to be doing ranch work, and worse, he insisted he wasn’t. Half my day was spent getting him off of ladders and dangerous equipment. I couldn’t do everything alone. I’d done my best to find new guys to come work for us and nothing was happening. I couldn’t even get them to show. We paid well, too well, for this area really, and the work wasn’t that hard, but it was like our ranch had gotten black listed.

Which was why I’d been up before dawn so that I could feed the chickens and the dairy cows, in the dark, before riding out. These fences had been needing mending for a while and I kept putting them off in favor of other things. But they were finally on the top of my to do list.

Sighing, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax the tensed and knotted muscles. I was working myself into the ground, but this wasn’t some hobby farm. We had thousands of head of cattle as well as other animals. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if I didn’t find someone to help me round our cows up and drive them to the pastures we had earmarked for winter. I couldn’t do it alone.

I had a few more months before winter, but I tended to move the herd regularly so they could fertilize the different fields. I’d moved them alone the last time and it had been a disaster. Our bull, Gus, hadn’t wanted to go and all the heifers kept splitting up to try to stay with him. I needed more people to move these damn cows again.

It was mid-August and already the day was sweltering, but broken fences and ornery cattle didn’t care about the heat or the bead of sweat that was dripping down my back. Rotationally grazing our cows meant that if they got into the wrong pastures it would ruin the set up to winter over the animals we planned to keep.

I needed a day off. I wanted a massage. But most of all, I wanted to sit down and cry at my misfortune. There wasn’t time for that either. Each night, I fell into bed exhausted. And each morning, I dragged myself out of it for another day of punishing work.

This ranch had been in my family for as far back as I knew. I wasn’t going to be the one who lost it. The one who couldn’t keep it going when my grandparents, and later my Dad, had managed to. At least until he’d passed.

Shaking my head, I gathered the tools I’d brought out to restretch the barbed wire that was hanging slack. I watched for a moment as Eris ran up and greeted the pair of donkeys we kept out with the cows. They were a decent animal to have as watch dogs for the cattle.

“Hi Dolores, Beatrice,” I called out, leaning on the wooden post. The pair of donkeys came running up, braying at me. Digging in my pocket, I pulled out the two carrots I’d brought for them. I’d found these girls at one of the local auctions and bought them immediately.

Grandpa had just shaken his head when he found me loading the girls up. He was old school and thought cattle and a couplehorses were all you needed for a cattle ranch. Over the years, I’d brought home more and more animals. I had a pet sheep named Lulu. A bunch of chickens, turkeys, geese, ducks… The list went on and on.

Patting the donkey’s heads, I got to work. It was late morning before I was finished and I dug around in my saddle bags for the sandwich I’d packed. I ate it on the ride back to the barn.

It wasn’t until I got closer to the house that I realized something was off. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I saw a car driving away. I was too far out to get a plate number. I wasn’t even sure why I had a bad feeling. Maybe it was one of the cowboys I’d talked to the other day stopping in to see the place. I could only hope.

Hopping off Hank, I put him in his stall, tossing a flake of hay into the feeder and quickly dragged off his tack. I wanted to go check on Grandpa and see who that was. Then I’d come back and take care of Hank properly. He deserved a good brushing after our morning together.

Eris was on my heels as I walked toward the house. Looking over, I saw her hackles standing up and my bad feeling deepened. “Gramps?” I called out.

Silence greeted me.

I realized that none of the birds were around. Usually the geese and ducks were waddling around making a racket. The male turkeys would run out and gobble at me. But there was nothing. It was too quiet.

I started to run. “Grandpa!” I shouted. The house was just as silent as outside. I poked my head into his room. His bed was neatly made but he wasn’t in there. The coffee pot was washed out and in the strainer. “Where is he?” I muttered as I walked back out onto our porch.

Shading my eyes, I squinted as I scanned the property. When I still didn’t see him, I went around back of the house and my heart dropped down into my dusty boots.

He was lying next to the chicken coop. Not moving.

“Gramps!” I skidded to a halt next to him and dropped to my knees. He was breathing, but there was blood all over his silver hair. “Oh my God,” I muttered, digging my phone out of my back pocket and dialing 911. I looked back toward the road, but the black polished car was long gone.

I spoke to the 911 operator, answering all of her questions, trying to hold in my panic. The flashbacks of finding my dad were pounding at me, but I needed to keep it together. Gramps needed help, not me melting down.

It felt as though it took years for the ambulance to arrive. We lived rurally. Our ranch was about forty-five minutes from downtown Tucson. The operator stayed on the phone with me, and I gingerly checked my grandfather’s pulse and kept her updated on his progress, or lack thereof until I heard the sirens.

“Did he fall and hit his head?” one of the EMTs asked as they rushed up to me.

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