CHAPTER 16
Hunter
I GRABBED A SHOTGUN from the rack by the door and rushed outside, heading for the stables at a dead run. The horse was still screaming, and the others were stomping and neighing in fright. I was confusing the sounds, but beneath all of the equestrian racket, my sensitive ears picked up on the noise of growls and teeth ripping into flesh.
Something’s out there for sure.
I pumped the shotgun and then fired a warning blast in the air. The horse screamed again, and then it was silent before I heard a scampering of paws against dirt. I caught a glimpse of a large creature with shaggy fur dart from the stables before disappearing and running off into the night. The predator in me wanted to chase after the intruder, but the more rational part of me knew I needed to check on the horses.
Grabbing the lantern hanging outside the stable doors, I paused to light it and then held it aloft while cautiously entering the stables. Most of the horses were still in their stalls, stomping nervously, banging against the doors, their terrified whines and snorts putting my beast on edge. I wanted to stop and soothe them, but the stall door at the end was open, and I slowly crept toward it to investigate.
What I found inside made me wince in sympathy. Inside was a roan mare named Twilight, lying on her side and covered in bleeding bite marks and gashes. The ones on her forelegs were deep enough that I could see a hint of bone, and one of those legs was at an odd angle, bone poking through the skin.
“Oh, Twi,” I murmured softly, crouching down to stroke the horse’s mane.
The mare let out what could only be categorized as a whimper, but she seemed to settle down as I caressed her.
“You were so close to finishing your training too. I’m sorry.”
I aimed the shotgun at the horse’s head and then paused as I heard a rush of footsteps outside. My nose told me it was Kia, and a second later, she dashed to my side, bundled up in a robe over her jeans, her face concerned and hair flying every which way.
“Oh my God,” she gasped as she caught sight of Twilight. “What happened to that poor horse? And . . . what are you doing?” Her eyes narrowed on the shotgun in my hand.
I sighed, lowering the weapon so as not to cause her further alarm. “I have to put her out of her misery,” I explained, reaching out and stroking Twilight’s matted hair.
The horse quivered beneath my palm, and my heart ached for her.
“What?” Kia looked horrified. “You . . . can’t just kill that poor animal! How do you know she won’t recover from her injuries? I’m going to call the vet, see if I can get someone down here.”
She started to turn away, but I reached out and lightly squeezed her by the ankle.
“Kia,” I said, my voice low, “first off, calm down and stop yelling. You’re agitating the horses.” I waited until she stilled. “Second of all, come here. I want to show you something.”
Reluctantly, Kia lowered herself into the hay and dirt so that she was kneeling next to the horse and me. I took her hand and placed it on the horse’s left foreleg.
“Do you see anything odd about this?”
Kia was silent for a long moment. “It’s broken,” she finally said in a small voice.
“Yes.” I took a breath. “Even if Twilight manages to survive her other injuries, which is doubtful at this point,” I said, gesturing to the large quantities of blood matting the hay beneath the mare, “this leg will never heal properly. It isn’t just a matter of her being lame. She’ll literally never be able to put any weight on it, and with the amount of mass she has, it just isn’t feasible for her to try to hobble around on three legs. She’d live out the rest of her life in constant pain and misery.”
Tears filled Kia’s eyes. “But . . .”
I laid my hand over Kia’s. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It has to be done.”
Nodding, Kia rose to her feet and fled the stables. I sighed. Then, resigning myself to the task, I pumped the shotgun, aiming at the horse’s head, then fired.
* * *
“I have to say, this is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dr. Kensington said as he knelt down in the bloody hay and examined the dead animal in the stall. “A horse being attacked in its own stall. Never heard of such a thing in my entire career, and I’ve been doing this for thirty years.”
I stood just outside the stall, watching the vet bend his salt-and-pepper head over Twilight’s body as he scrutinized her injuries.
“What do you think did this?” I asked.
We were completely alone in the stall. I’d let the horses out before I turned in last night so they wouldn’t have to be around the stench of death, and Kia was still in bed.
“Well, the bites and claw marks are certainly canine in nature,” Dr. Kensington said, “but the jaw length is far too large for a dog or coyote. My best guess would be that it was a wolf . . . but even then, it would have had to be a huge one.” The vet shook his head, finished his examination, and stood up. “I hate to say it, but you did the right thing by ending Twilight’s life. She never would have recovered from that broken leg.”
“Appreciate it, Doc.” I took out my wallet to pay the man and then helped him to his car. I stood on the porch, watching the vet drive off, thinking long and hard about what the doctor had told me and what my own senses had informed me when I did a little of my own investigation last night.
My first impression when I’d seen the beast running out of the stable was that it was a wolf. But I’d discarded the theory on my second impression, which was based on the animal’s size. Once I’d let the horses out and I was alone in the stables, I’d picked up on what I thought was the scent of a wolf, though it was slightly off from what I remembered wolves smelling like.
The doctor had told me that the bites were canine, but they were too large to be a dog or coyote or really even a wolf. But I had smelled something like a wolf and seen something like a wolf, and I could only draw one conclusion from all of this. The beast that had attacked Twilight was a wolf-shifter.
But what the hell was a wolf-shifter doing running around in rural Texas and killing off horses?
I could understand if a rogue or nomadic shifter had decided to take down a cow or sheep for some food while passing through, but the shifter had left the cattle untouched despite the fact that they were much easier targets. The idea that the animal that had attacked Twilight was a shifter also explained why the stall door was open, I realized. The stall door hadn’t been damaged in any way, so I couldn’t see how an animal could have gotten it open.
Shaking my head, I went back inside the house. Then I called Johnny and a few other guys in town to come and help me remove the dead horse from the stable and get it to the butcher. After the emotionally and physically draining tasks were completed, I returned to the house ready to tackle the rest of my to-do items for the day. Upon entering the house, the delicious aroma of bacon and griddle cakes hit me, and I followed the scent into the dining room, only to see Kia sitting at the table, picking at a plate of eggs and griddle cakes. She was bundled up in a bathrobe and looked a little worse for the wear, her hair hanging wildly around her face, with dark circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes.
“Hey,” I said softly, sitting in the chair next to her. I put my arm around her. “Are you okay?” I knew it was a dumb question as she clearly wasn’t, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
A lone tear slipped from the corner of her right eye, and she angrily swiped at it, as though she couldn’t bear for me to see her tears. “It’s stupid,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “I hardly knew any of the horses. I’ve only been taking care of them for a week. Yet . . .”
“You grieve,” I finished for her. I squeezed her shoulder gently. “There’s no shame in that. Twilight was a good horse, and you learned to ride on her, so it’s only natural that you would feel her loss.”
“I overheard you on the phone,” Kia said suddenly, lifting her head to glare balefully at me. “Don’t take Twilight to the butcher. I want to give her a proper burial.”
I nodded, silently acquiescing to her request. There was no point in explaining to her that selling Twilight to the butcher would allow us to recoup some of the monetary loss from the horse’s death. Kia was in no state to think about business.
“We’ll bury her this afternoon.”
Johnny and the other men arrived, and we spent the rest of the morning hauling Twilight’s body out to the burial ground that Kia had picked out and then digging a hole large enough to bury the animal. I tried to get Kia to go back inside, but she refused, planting herself next to the horse’s body, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the men work. Her brown eyes were vacant, as if she were far off in another time and place. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about. I didn’t press her though, sensing she wanted to be left alone.
Storm clouds slowly gathered on the horizon as we worked, and by the time the grave was finished, thunder and lightning were crackling through the sky. Mrs. Jones came out with umbrellas for everyone, and we all huddled around the grave as Johnny officiated the ceremony. Everyone said a few nice words about Twilight, even the ranchers who had never met her before, and then we buried her, placing flowers atop the grave.
Kia quietly thanked everyone and then disappeared into the house before I could say anything.
“Leave her be,” Mrs. Jones said when I attempted to go after her. “I have a feeling she’s grieving for more than just a dead horse.”
Nodding, I paid the men for their help, and then Johnny and I saddled up and herded the cattle to another pasture.
Just a few more weeks of this, and the pastures will be looking right as rain. Although that won’t matter if I end up losing the bet.
That’s the most defeatist thing I’ve ever heard you think, my inner beast growled. So, we lost one horse. That doesn’t mean we’re going to lose another. We’re just going to have to work a little harder to make up for the loss.
Easy for you to say, I grumbled.
But my wolf’s words actually made me feel a bit better. The truth was that I still had three weeks, and a lot could happen in that amount of time.
Still, that wolf-shifter I smelled was pretty alarming, I told my beast. I hope he was just passing through and that he’ll leave the horses alone.
My wolf snorted. If you’re going to trust in things like hope and faith, you might as well throw in the towel now.
Right.
I needed to be on my guard. The horses were the ranch’s most valuable commodity, and since we only had ten right now, we couldn’t afford to lose another. Until I knew that the wolf wasn’t going to come back, I was going to have to make sure the horses were guarded. And since I couldn’t bring myself to put any of the other men in that kind of danger—they were only human, after all, and I wanted them to stay that way—it meant I’d have to do it myself.