Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire. Linda O. JohnstonЧитать онлайн книгу.
Be professional, he again reminded himself.
“I’ve got some stuff here for us to eat,” she told him as she reached him. “Croissants and jelly. We can go wolf it down now with some coffee, if you’d like, before we go visit the horses. But we’ll need to be fast.”
“Sounds good. Is it okay to leave this stuff here?” He pointed to the small pile he had placed on the floor.
“It’s fine. We’ll be back soon.”
Which they were. Their breakfast, unaccompanied by other ranch hands, took only about ten minutes.
He considered the kinds of food they’d eat out on the trail and figured she must have some items in her saddlebags.
Him? He’d picked up some dried fruit and beef jerky and energy bars—nothing that would go bad, and it could all be carried fairly easily.
Who knew how long they would be out in the pastures hunting cattle and people?
When they were finished, Melody helped Casey to download the GPS app onto his phone. She then told him to follow her to the stable. She picked up her saddlebags before he could grab them and she didn’t seem inclined to allow him to be a gentleman and carry them along with his own stuff. She tossed him a slightly irritated look, which told him that any old-fashioned etiquette wouldn’t be welcome around her.
He hid his smile. He liked that about her.
He was liking too many things about her.
For now, he closed the bunkhouse door behind him and followed her along the paved pathway across this part of the ranch behind the main house.
Melody opened the stable door fairly easily, it appeared, despite how full her arms were. Once inside, she placed her saddlebags down on the hay-covered ground and closed the door again behind Casey.
There were seven horses in separate stalls, though a few stalls were empty and he figured that was because of the ranch hands who had ridden off to the pastures to protect the remaining cattle.
“We need to do this scientifically,” Melody said, standing beside him. There was a humorous catch to her voice. “Let’s start with this. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“Well, yes, sort of.” Smiling wryly down at her, he described the few times he had ridden at commercial riding areas in parks, and at family friends’ farms as a child, along with his brother, and also occasionally at county fairs and the like. “No real riding on trails out in the countryside, though.”
“Got it. And I also know who’s best for you. Witchy’s the horse here who’s the least challenge to newbie riders.” She led him over to a red-and-white horse a few stalls down.
“Really? A horse named Witchy is fairly tame?”
“Yes. We’ll try her. Me, I’ll take my favorite—Cal.” She looked back toward Casey and grinned at him in a way that made him anticipate what she’d say next. “That’s short for Calamity.”
Casey couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Sounds like we’re headed for some wild riding. Witchy and Calamity.”
“You got it,” Melody said. “Now, let me get them saddled up and we’ll try them out in the paddock outside. I’ll also show you a bit of grooming and other things you’ll need to know when we’re out on the trail. Still, if all goes as I anticipate, we should be good to start our expedition in twenty minutes.”
“You’re doing great!” Melody called to Casey a few minutes later, meaning it.
She was seated on top of Cal, a sleek brown quarter horse and her favorite mount, while watching Casey trot around the perimeter of the corral on top of Witchy, a gentle and friendly pinto. The deputy sat tall in the saddle and appeared perfectly at home as he gently pulled the reins now and then to get Witchy to turn around and head in the other direction.
He’d seemed to have gotten the hang of it from the moment he had put his left foot into the stirrup and lifted himself into the saddle. Witchy’s head had turned just a bit to see who her rider would be. The mare seemed fine with it, and Melody had only given Casey a few cues about how to remain seated comfortably and maneuver the reins to direct the mare.
She also told Casey how to gently squeeze with his heels to tell Witchy to speed up, and showed him how to click a bit with his tongue if he wanted her to go even faster.
As always, Melody appreciated being outdoors, listening to the clomping of hoofbeats at different speeds on the hard corral turf. She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment as she lifted her chin toward the sky. She felt alive here, and free.
This part, at least, was fun. And when she opened her eyes she saw that Casey had slowed Witchy down and was staring at her…and smiling, too. She looked down and shook her head, and directed Cal, with her heels, to start walking.
After a short while, Melody asked Cal to begin trotting as she directed him to get in front of Witchy. Then she urged him even further, and Cal began galloping around the corral, his mane blowing as he moved.
Melody glanced behind her. Yes, Witchy and Casey were keeping up. Not surprising, but it confirmed what she was thinking: it was time for them to head off to that critical pasture.
They had almost returned to the site of the mutilated fence. It had taken much less time today, thanks to the horses and their speedier gaits.
Casey was happy to be on horseback. He liked Witchy and felt he was doing an okay job playing cowboy, as he rode this calm, obedient and enjoyable steed along the uneven, mostly grassy terrain.
Even more, he was enjoying watching his companion on this ride, Melody, on her somewhat more energetic equine, Cal.
She seemed more at home here, somehow, intensely watching their surroundings and handling her reins, gently guiding her mount in the direction she wanted. She wore a cap now, a blue denim one that matched her shirt, a lighter color than her jeans. He, too, wore a cap, with his sheriff’s department logo on it—the only current indication of his status as a deputy. But he needed the shading of his face from the sun, which was bound to become even more intense as the day grew later.
It was still early in the morning, around nine, and the air was clear and a bit cool for Arizona, not surprising in November. An airplane flew high overhead in the blue sky, and Casey wondered for a moment which airport it had come from and where it was going. It appeared to be flying north, so maybe it had just taken off from Tucson International.
Reflexively, as he’d done often during this ride, he glanced behind himself at one of the two very large, but not particularly heavy, saddlebags Melody and he had filled. The other was attached to her saddle, similarly behind her. With her instruction, they’d fastened them on their mounts before leaving the stable. His contained a small tent in case they had to sleep outside for a night or two, which wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Each of them also contained lightweight, closely folded sleeping bags.
The most bulky and necessary items they’d included were water bottles, although Melody had assured him that she knew where some creeks—perhaps including the one the town of Cactus Creek had been named for—were located. They could utilize these creeks for water, which they could purify with her portable water filter. That way, they should be able to keep their own water bottles filled, as well as making sure the horses had drinkable water.
And possibly the most important thing? His duty belt was hidden inside that saddlebag. It contained items he hoped he wouldn’t need, but would be crucial if he did, including his gun. He’d also stuck his wallet and badge inside in case he needed money or to identify himself, though he kept his phone in his pocket since he figured he might need it quicker than the