Page 114 of True North

She slides into the truck and closes the door, like she’s been doin’ it every day for the past ten years. In a way—to me, at least—she has.

I smile at her, folding my hand over hers on the seat between us. “Something like that.”

ChapterTwenty-Nine

LOUISA

It’s been a long time since I have seen pure disbelief on Harry’s face. Ten years, to be exact. But as we sit in the saddle barely a week after my last ride out with him, that’s exactly what is etched all over his face.

Next comes rage, as he swings down from his horse.

He paces up and down the half-destroyed fence line toward the mutilated calf barely moving. Another beast down.

Wolves.

Heavens above.

At this rate, we won’t have enough breeders left to make it through the next year. Let alone the longevity of the herd. Which is supposed to thrive and grow over the next decade. That was the plan, at least.

Now, with things so tight, each loss is a kick in the gut.

My installments on the restaurant are taking every last penny I have. We can’t afford another setback. It’s moments like these I wish Rosie was here. Her words always set Harry right. She knew him so well. Where his mind would take him.

He stalks back to the gelding and plucks his rifle from by the saddle. I swallow past the lump in my throat. Letting my eyes shutter closed, I grip the pommel, reins tightly woven through my fingers just in case Horse spooks.

Crack.

Dammit.

I set my jaw, grinding my molars to stem the emotion wanting out so bad my eyes burn. This is ranchin’. It’s hard. It’s Mother Nature versus us some days. And the damn wolves.

The saddle on the gelding creaks. I open my eyes to find Harry up on his horse, those blues trained on me.

“You good, darlin’?”

“Fine. Let’s keep moving.”

He nods and pushes the gelding into a lope. I fly off behind him. Horse catches up in no time, and we lope through the golden grasses at the base of the mountains. The low ground, where the wolves shouldn’t be, this close to the homestead.

Supply and demand.

The colder weeks have chased them down. The diminishing feed in the higher pastures means the cattle are coming down from the mountain. It’s not soon enough. We’re losing too many of the smaller cattle.

Today we are bringing the cows and calves down off the mountain. The big roundup with the newer herd Harry brought on when he purchased the ranch roam free in the higher pastures. Hopefully they have fared better than his home lot.

Fingers crossed.

It isn’t long until we find the old mob. And they are as familiar as the man beside me by now. The reddish cows graze the short green sprouts poking through the frosty ground. Their calves mill about, suckling, playing. They look content enough.

“Take the rear.” Harry waves to the higher part of the slope. I trot Horse up to where he wants me and start rounding up.

Harry takes the lead, weaving back and forth on the gelding. It’s automatic, a dance between the beast and man and his horse. Head down and haunches bunched, the gelding earns his keep, moving side to side as we slowly make our way down the side of the mountain. I push up the stragglers and keep an eye on the youngest of the calves. The cows are alert. Good mamas, they are.

That bond between them and their babies is heartwarming. I wonder if I will ever have it. A love so strong, so automatic. I sure hope so. My gaze drifts to the man on the horse beyond the herd. His dark hair pokes out from under his hat. His form on a horse is something else.

Collar up on his jacket, hat pulled down, strong legs wrapped around the gelding... It isn’t until I hear a little bellow beside me that I realize my heart rate is exceptionally high, each breath too choppy. My panties, rocking in the saddle, are saturated.

Shit.

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