Travis grinned. “Attagirl. I’ll go with you and show him my tough face. That might help.”
Tammy laughed. “That will help tons, Daddy. You could scare the spots off an Appaloosa.”
Savanna said, “That’s no lie. I get shaky when he gives me the biker face.”
After breakfast, Tammy and I hit the barn and saddled our horses. My ride, Windrider was a gorgeous Appaloosa fromCoulter-Ross Stables and Bonnie Grace came from there too. The blue roan mare that Tammy rode for barrel racing.
Because of my arm, I couldn’t lift my saddle and Tammy helped me get it into place so I could finish the job. Even the straps were a pain in the ass, but I managed.
When we were ready, we took off at a gallop from behind the windbreak of evergreens that sheltered the house and barn from the rages of frequent winter storms common to northern Montana.
Across the back of our huge acreage was a path the wild mustangs used to run from ranch to ranch and back again to their own protected preserve to the west of us.
Where there were no fences to stop them, the wild horses ran free and wild and were heart-stopping to see in motion.
I was disappointed we didn’t see any on our ride today, but every time I rode to the back of the ranch, I hoped to see them.
Back at the barn, we cooled the horses out and made sure they had lots of water after all that galloping. Horses drank a lot of water. Electrolytes were good for them too. Helped restore their energy. Tammy taught me that. She knew a lot about horses from living with her step-mama on the horse ranch in Texas.
Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.
Billy finished breakfast and drove down to the station to feed the prisoners so the kids could go for a ride. Tammy and Harlan had been working too hard since he and Travis had been injured. They both agreed on that.
First thing he did was make two pots of coffee before walking across the street to the diner to get the breakfast containers for the prisoners.
The kids had been working overtime and the run was filled to busting with criminals waiting for trials and arraignments.
On his return, Billy walked around to the back of the building to come in that way. He set the bags down and unlocked the door.
A car drove into the parking lot, stopped next to his truck and a man hopped out, hollering at him. “Hey, you. I want in there to see my son.”
“We don’t have facilities for visitors, sir. You’ll have to wait until your son is taken to court. You can see him then.”
“I ain’t waiting until he goes to court. Get it? I want to see Kyle now. You hear me? Now.”
Kyle Smollett’s father.
Smollett pushed Billy out of the way and barged into the building ahead of him.
“I’m asking you to leave, sir. You can’t see your son until tomorrow when he’s taken to court for his arraignment. Your attorney can see him tomorrow morning at eight o’clock when the office opens.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Smollett pulled out a Glock and pointed it at Billy. “I’m going to see Kyle now. You get the keys or whatever you need and get my boy out here so I can see him.”
“No. I’m not doing that.”
“No?” Smollett laughed and cracked Billy across the side of the head with the butt of the Glock.
Billy staggered backwards and hit the wall, blood trickling down from the gash on his temple.
Waving the gun in Billy’s face, Smollett said, “Get the keys or I’m going to kill you and get the keys myself. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Billy whispered.
With his hand on his head, Billy stumbled to the office and took the keys to the run from the rack. While he walked back down the hall at gunpoint, he made a quick plan and hoped to hell it was going to work.
Billy unlocked the run and let Smollett charge in ahead of him, then let the door click shut behind them. It automatically locked.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” shouted Kyle Smollett. He ran from his bunk and grabbed the bars of this cell. “Dad, are you getting me out of here?”