Linda Johnston - Colton 911 - Caught In The Crossfire

“Then I’ll say good-night now,” Clarence said. “Thanks to both of you, and keep me informed of your progress tomorrow.”

It was six o’clock in the morning. Casey had awakened a while ago, showered, dressed and taken the things he had brought for their camping-and-stakeout expedition out to the bunkhouse lobby.

When they had arrived there last night, Melody had shown him to a small apartment on the second floor and given him a key. She’d let him know that her room was on the same floor but down the hall. He had gone out to his car—his own SUV—to retrieve the items he planned to take along.

When he’d come back in, he’d seen a couple of the guys including Pierce, whom he’d met before, and another fellow named Roger. They’d confirmed that the additional ranch hands had remained camping out in the pastures with the other cattle. Both of them indicated they’d be out in the pastures today, too. But Pierce seemed a bit displeased, hinting at his own desire to get out there and find the missing cattle. Casey thanked him but said that wasn’t a great idea—particularly since he, a deputy sheriff, would be out there working on the situation, with help from another ranch hand. Pierce had agreed that was the better scenario.

Maybe Pierce and Roger had already headed out this morning, since neither appeared when Casey brought out his things and waited for Melody, who’d apparently already been there. His equipment, which he’d packed in the burlap bags some of the stuff had come in, wasn’t the only camping gear in the lobby. There were a couple of substantial-sized saddle packs right by the front door that he assumed were Melody’s.

But where was she? Should he text her? Call her? Maybe he should go to the kitchen to see what he could grab for breakfast, or maybe that’s what she was doing. He’d be happy to see her again before they headed out.

He’d be happy to be with her then, too—which concerned him. He shouldn’t have to remind himself to remain professional.

He started down the first-floor hallway in the direction he believed the kitchen was located and saw Melody emerge from a door at the end, her hands full.

“Good morning,” she called, not muffling her voice at all. He figured no one else was there. She would be the one to know it.

She strode down the hallway and entered the lobby. Her black hair was once again pulled back into a ponytail, although she’d worn it somewhat looser last night at dinner. She again wore a blue denim work shirt and jeans, though her shirt this time was darker in color and unbuttoned partway down the front to show a navy T-shirt below.

She looked damn pretty in it, despite how casual this outfit was, too.

He suspected she would look damn pretty in any outfit. Or none at all…

He immediately tamped down that thought. 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.