Page 12 of Silver Elite

“All right. I’m turning in.” He rises from his chair. “Good night, little bird.”

The endearment makes me smile. “Good night.”

In my room, I wash up and get ready for bed. I drift into sleep thinking not about the soldier I spent the evening with but the hot, rude stranger at the inn.

—

At the crack of dawn, I head to the barn to saddle my gentle Appaloosa mare. I could take the off-road vehicle—it’d be faster—but I enjoy my quality time with Kelley.

“Hey, beautiful,” I coo, running my hand over her spotted back. She’s got the prettiest dark-brown-and-white coloring, and her big liquid eyes reflect my smiling face back at me. “Ready to go fix a fence?”

Kelley nickers. I take that as a yes and mount, the leather reins loose in my hands as I guide her away from the stables and toward the trail.

The worst part about ranching is all the tedious chores. As much as I’d love to, I don’t get to spend all my time riding Kelley and swimming in the creek. I’m up to my eyeballs in feeding the animals, mucking stalls, filling water troughs. And those are thefunchores. Repairing fences is my least favorite task, but it’s one of the most important. Our fences keep our cows in and the predators out.

Kelley and I ride into the north pasture, where I dismount and let her graze while I locate the broken section of fencing my uncle told me about. I quickly tackle the job of fixing it, using a stretcher to pull the two split pieces of wire taut so I can reconnect them with a crimp sleeve. Then I spend the rest of the morning inspecting every inch of fencing until I’m satisfied there’s no access points for the white coyotes that want to terrorize our herd.

I’m slipping my thick work gloves off when Uncle Jim tries to link with me. A second later, his warning fills my head.

“Don’t come back to the house. Stay away.”

My shoulders snap into a straight line.“Why? What’s going on?”

“Command’s here”is his grim reply.

My heartbeat quickens. Why is Command at the house? We’re always warned before an inspection.

Racing toward Kelley, I reach out to Tana, but she doesn’t let me in. She’s either asleep, dead, or ignoring me. My money’s on asleep. She was thoroughly boozed last night.

“Uncle Jim? Are you okay? I’m coming back.”

“Absolutely not. Stay put.”

Yeah, forget that.

I heave myself into the saddle and click my tongue to command Kelley to go. When she’s slow to start, I apply pressure with my calves and urge her into a gallop.

We don’t take the same route back to the ranch, the one that would leave us out in the open, exposed. We approach from high ground, stopping at the rocky outcrop far above the south pasture where the herd is currently grazing. From there, I’m provided with a perfectvantage point to the house. It’s several hundred yards away, but Mods have perfect eyesight. We don’t need pesky things like glasses.

I dismount and creep toward the edge of the rocks, peering over. I see the trucks. Two of them, olive green with the black-and-silver Command emblem painted on the doors. When I spot Uncle Jim, my heart drops to my stomach.

He’s wearing a long-sleeved flannel and his usual faded jeans. Knees in the dirt, his cowboy hat thrown on the ground a few feet away. A uniformed man with an officer patch on his right sleeve presses a gun barrel to my uncle’s forehead.

“I can see you. I see them. Why are they here?”My knees are as weak as my breathing.

“They came to watch you shoot.”

Horror slams into me. This is because ofme?

My gaze swoops over the soldiers. Four others stand like stone statues behind the one in charge. I feel queasy when I realize one of them is Jordan.

Thisismy fault.Idid this. I made that impossible shot last night, drew attention to myself, and now the Command is holding a gun to my uncle’s head.

I have my rifle. I can take them out. Shoot them…Desperation lodges in my throat, because there’s no possible way I can eliminate all five without at least one of them putting a bullet in Jim’s skull.

“What do I do?”

“You turn around and go find Griff,”he orders, his long sleeves obfuscating the fact he’s communicating with me.“He’ll take care of you.”

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