Wild Horses (9 page)

“You okay?” Patty called.

“Yeah. Fine.” Castaña kept her gaze straight ahead, leveled between Gato’s black-tipped ears. As long as she took a lot of deep breaths and didn’t look off into the deep chasm she was okay. Sort of.

“I see something,” Patty called.

Castaña didn’t turn around to look at her. “What?”

“I think it’s a horse.”

“Where?” Castaña assumed Patty pointed at something, but she wasn’t about to turn around in her saddle to find out.

“Over by the pond.”

Castaña risked a glance out over the treetops. Quickly, she turned her eyes back to the trail in front of her. “I can’t look right now. Can we get to them when we get down?”

“I think so,” Patty said.

The rest of the trip was made in tense silence.

At the bottom of the hair raising trail, Castaña reined in and Patty moved up beside her. “I always forget how much fun that ride is. Whew. It’s not for scaredy cats.”

“You’ve been down it before?”

“Yeah.” Patty bent around in her saddle and pulled a bottle of water out of her saddlebags. She twisted off the cap and took a long swallow. “I once helped rescue a hiker who slipped and fell.”

Castaña shuddered and reached for her own water. “Did it kill him?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Martin could’ve had a similar accident and no one would ever know it. They could ride right past him and never even see him. Castaña pushed those thoughts out of her head. “You said you thought you saw horses? Where?”

Patty slipped her water back in its holder. “I’ll show you.”

The trail split and they took the left fork, although the right led toward the position of the flare. The trail here was well maintained and wide. Through the thinning trees, they caught glimpses of a pond. Gato neighed and another horse answered.

“That’s coming from the direction I saw the horse,” Patty said.

“It sounds like Rojo.” They’d find out in a minute.

When they broke into the open, they spotted a large pond ringed by trees. Not a place a horse would hang out except to drink. Gato and Patty’s horse both walked eagerly to the edge and dropped their muzzles into the clear water.

A sorrel horse broke over the far bank and galloped toward them.

Rojo.

And Cloud right behind him.

Castaña dismounted and untied a halter from her saddlehorn, and as the horses galloped up to them, she noticed Rojo wore his halter and, not one, but two lead ropes. She caught the sorrel and patted his warm neck. Cloud stayed out of reach. She examined the sorrel, but didn’t find any injuries. Cloud looked fine, too, although his halter was missing. “What happened, boys? What are you doing this far from camp?”

“Looks like somebody made a makeshift bridle,” Patty commented.

“Jake, probably.” But what happened to him? Had he managed to catch Rojo and attempted to haul the injured man to safety? Why? How had the horse ended up miles in the opposite direction from the ranch? Had whoever shot off the flare gun found the men? Castaña mounted Gato. “We better make tracks toward the flare. I think Cloud will follow us.”

As they rode away from the lake, the appaloosa trailed along behind.

• • •

Before they reached Staton, Perez and the S&R team, Castaña and Patty saw a form in a body bag. They rode up close and dismounted. Staton spoke first. “You saw my flares.”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” Patty stepped closer. “Who’d you find?”

Castaña held her breath. Please don’t let it be Martin. Or Jake.

Staton looked at her. “We were hoping you could tell us. Can you identify the body?”

On wobbly legs, Castaña stepped forward. Perez unzipped the body bag a little and she peered in. Not Martin. Relief, and then her gag reflex made her knees go weak. In the light of day, the man looked like a world champion boxer had beaten him up. Purple and blue bruises stood out against his death pallor like paint thrown on a white canvas. Dried blood trickled from his mouth and nose. “That’s the same man we found last night.”

“You think your brother knew this man?” Staton made it sound more like a statement than a question.

“I don’t know,” Castaña said. “Are you blaming Martin for this guy’s death, too?”

“Just asking questions,” Staton replied coolly. “For instance, how did this man get clear over here from Dead Horse Canyon? When did he die? And how? You said he was still alive when you last saw him.”

“I have no idea what happened to him. He was in bad shape when I left, but I thought he’d live until help arrived.” She straightened and took in her surroundings. The group stood in the middle of a sandy wash rimmed by sagebrush. From here to Phoenix, the terrain would become progressively more barren until it was desert. In the other direction, as a crow flies, from here to the cabin would be at least two miles through thick timber.

“I don’t either,” Staton admitted. “Where’d you find the horses? Yours?”

“Yeah, they’re mine.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Up there. By Big Otter Lake.”

“That’s not too far from here, is it?” he asked thoughtfully.

“No.” She could guess what he was thinking. Someone could’ve ridden the horse, or used him to carry the body here, then turned him loose. But why leave on the halter? Jake could answer these questions, but where was he? “You didn’t spot anyone else?”

“Not even a glimpse.”

“What about tracks?”

“No, the rain washed anything useful away.” Staton turned his attention to the others. “Let’s pack the meat and get out of here.”

Castaña looked away while Patty went to help the men load the body on the packhorse they’d brought along for that purpose. She didn’t want to watch them wrestle the dead man onto the horse’s back like a sack of garbage. From all the huffing and puffing, he must weigh a ton. Finally someone said, “Got ‘im. Toss me the lash rope.”

Castaña hoped there was a little more dignity in her passing.

“What’s your plan now?” Patty broke Castaña out of her gloomy thoughts.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “If Martin’s out here he’s bound to be close to the mustangs. But I don’t know where they range anymore.”

“Where were the BLM men killed?”

“Near Angel Falls.”

“That’s a starting point, isn’t it?” Patty glanced at the sky. “If we ride fairly fast we can make it by sundown.”

“We?” Castaña arched her brows. “Don’t you have to go back with the guys?”

“I can hang out a little longer,” Patty said. “For a couple of days, at least. I’ll have Ron call my boss and tell him I’m needed on a search. The way people are dropping like flies out here it might not be safe for you to be alone.”

Basically the same thing Jake had said. Where was he? How had he gotten split up with the injured man? Was he all right? “Thank you,” Castaña said. Although she hadn’t known Patty very long, she was fast becoming a good friend.

“Let me tell Ron.” Patty and the team leader had a quiet discussion. Then he nodded. Patty returned to Castaña. “All good. Ron’ll call work and fill them in. I should’ve asked — do you have enough supplies for an overnight? I have enough for one, but not two.”

“I have plenty,” Castaña said. “But I don’t need three horses. I wonder if Ron might take the extra two back to the ranch? They’re going that way anyway.”

“Let’s ask him.”

Together the two women approached the older man. He stood talking with the two other S&R members. Castaña waited until he finished then spoke to Ron. “I was hoping you might take my extra two horses back to the ranch? They’re just going to get in my way.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “But what if you find the other fellow? You might need a horse to pack him out.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that,” Castaña said. “Never mind. I’ll lead Rojo and Cloud can continue to follow.”

“Be careful, girls.” Ron’s voice was grave. “I don’t like what’s going on around here one bit.”

The tall, skinny S&R team member leered at them. “Yeah, there’s boogermen out there in the woods. Maybe I ought to go along and protect you.” He licked his lips and hooked his thumbs threw his belt loops, pulling his jeans up so they pulled tight against his crotch.

Castaña glared at him, but didn’t comment.

Patty rolled her eyes. “Hey, Ron, I was just wondering if you have any idea where the horses range nowadays?”

He reached for a can of tobacco and tapped it. “Well, let me see. I guided a few tourists into the Apache-Sitgreave last fall and we saw a bunch along the way. I guess they had to be close to camp.” He placed a dab of tobacco in his mouth. “We spent the night at the old ranger cabin. Yeah, that’s right. An old pinto stallion was running with a few mares and colts. The dudes sure were taken with them. Shot a bunch of pictures. That’s the only herd I can think of offhand.”

“Thanks, Ron. That helps a lot,” Castaña said.

He touched the brim of his Stetson. “Good luck finding your brother. I know Martin, and I don’t think he killed them fellows.”

Unexpected tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He bared his stained teeth. “Well, sure, missy.”

Deputy Perez joined them. “We’re ready to leave. We’ve got to get a move on to make it back to the ranch by dark. We’ll be pressed to make it this late.”

The two S&R men mounted their horses and held the packhorse with his sad load.

“We’re all set. Take care, ladies.” Ron moved to his horse.

“We’re not going with you,” Castaña told Deputy Perez. “Patty and I are going to continue to look for Martin.”

Perez frowned. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“I have to.”

“Where are you headed?”

She gestured northeast. “To the ranger cabin. Ron told us he saw a herd of wild horses there last fall. Martin’s likely to be where the mustangs are.”

“The ranger station is a good day’s ride from here,” Perez said. “Are you going to go there tonight?

Castaña weighed her options. On one hand, she was partway to the ranger station. But the cabin in the canyon was a good three or four hours in the opposite direction. She’d ridden in the dark last night and didn’t look forward to repeating the adventure. She glanced at Patty. “What if we rode to the old Hampstead place? It’s a little out of the way, but we can use the bunkhouse tonight and go the rest of the way tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Patty said.

“That’s the plan then,” Castaña told Perez.

“Will you check in with me when you get back?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“I don’t have to remind you there’s a killer out there,” he said.

“I know, but no one should have any reason to shoot at us.” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.

“You’re poking around in something bad,” he argued. “I’m not trying to scare you, but I want you to take this seriously. Be on guard.”

Patty glared at him. “If you’re not trying to frighten us you’re doing a bad job.”

“Just be careful.”

“We will.” Castaña tried to shake off the uneasy feeling his words invoked. “Please wait until we leave so Cloud will come with me and not you.” She swung up on Gato and took Rojo’s lead rope. Patty moved beside her. “Bye.”

Castaña and Patty were at the tree line before the group of men rode the opposite direction.

“I don’t know about you,” Patty said, “but Deputy Perez was making me nervous.”

“Yeah, he kind of freaked me out. But not as bad as that other guy.” Castaña tugged on Rojo’s lead. “I never did get that tall guy’s name. Who is he? Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t recognize either of them. I was told the tall jerk’s name is Lyle Cavett. The shorter one is Bob Alvarado. They showed up this morning and said they’d been given today’s assignment. I know most of the team, but I’ve never seen them before. I have a new position at my job, though, and haven’t been able to attend a lot of meetings lately. They probably just recently joined Search and Rescue.”

“They both seemed kind of rough around the edges,” Castaña said. “Not typical of S&R.”

“It takes all kinds, I guess.”

“I suppose.”

• • •

A woman named Eagle lived at the old Hampstead place. No last name. She’d been old as long as anyone could remember, but no one seemed to know her true age. Maybe seventy or maybe ninety. Occasionally, she allowed visitors to use her bunkhouse, and Castaña felt confident Eagle would put them up for the night. She might also know something about Martin.

A red and white horse ran up to the corral fence to meet them when they rode into the barnyard. They dismounted, tied the horses to the hitch post and walked toward a small log structure.

The door opened and Eagle stepped out on the porch. Still standing tall and proud, her long gray hair was twisted in twin braids that fell past her waist. She wore a flannel work shirt, brand new jeans and beaded moccasins. “Hello.”

The girls stepped up on the porch. “Hello, Eagle. I’m Castaña Castillo, Martin’s sister. Do you remember me? We used to ride up here and spend the night when we were kids.”

“Course I remember, girl. My mind’s still sharp as a tack. What brings you back to the Apache-Sitgreave? Last I heard you were making a name for yourself in Texas.”

“I came back to look for Martin. He’s missing.” Tears welled in her eyes and Castaña blinked them away. She indicated Patty. “This is Patty McRae. We were hoping we could spend the night in your bunkhouse.”

“Sure you can stay,” Eagle said. “But not in the bunkhouse. You can stay right here with me. What do you mean Martin’s missing? Where’s he gone?”

Castaña’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I knew.”

Eagle wrapped Castaña in a quick, warm embrace. “Put your horses in the small pasture next to the barn. There’s a creek and plenty of feed. Then come and eat a bite with me.”

“Thank you.”

The girls walked back to the barn, unsaddled their horses and put them up where Eagle had suggested. Happy to be loose, the horses dropped in the tall grass and rolled scratching their backs.

Inside the cabin, a mouth-watering aroma of Navajo stew filled the small space and Castaña’s stomach growled. Lunch was a long time ago. “Smells good.”

Eagle carried the stew to the table and pointed with her shoulder. “The washroom’s that way.”