Johnny groaned at the number of trucks and men gathered together in groups at Rourke Ranch. The group watched him roar up on his street bike, losing interest when he stopped beside the large wraparound porch.

 

Sliding from the black leather seat, Johnny removed his half-helmet and studied each man, searching for one Michael Rourke or his grandfather the ornery Mr. Rourke who’d terrorized Johnny’s childhood. 

 

Boots thudded on the wooden slats behind him. Spinning, Johnny passed his helmet to his other hand. Ah, the prodigal grandson. “Michael Rourke. How you doin’, man?” Johnny waved down his once wayward friend.

 

Michael stepped down the stairs, coming to a stop beside the bike. A slow smile reached his eyes and he held out his hand for a strong shake. “Jonathan Mayfair. Holy crap. I can’t believe it. It’s been, what? Six years since you came to Rourke land?”

 

“Seven.” Johnny looked around at the group and removed his sunglasses. “What’s going on? You have something happen?”

 

The joy slid from Michael’s face. He jerked his head. “Yeah, my girl’s sister took off on Sugar—”

 

“Sugar? Not the horse Uncle Tim wanted to put down? When we sold her, we thought she was going to a small-time rodeo. I had no idea you bought her.” Johnny’s jaw slackened. Who the hell would climb on that horse? The animal was half devil.

 

“Walk with me.” Michael waited for Johnny to fall into step with him as they headed toward the barn where the majority of the men gathered. “I bought Sugar as an outreach. We buy undesirables and retrain them. This girl’s been trying to get on Sugar for a long time now. The horses I take in… no one else can handle them. Mostly it’s a rescue mission and gives them a place to live but also a second chance at being a riding horse.” He studied Johnny as if he sought his understanding. “They have a lot of life left to give.”

 

“Yeah, I’d heard you were running a horse mission here. In fact, that’s why I’m here.  But that can wait. What about this girl?” His reasons for returning to Rourke Ranch weren’t to be overlooked and if Michael was distracted while Johnny explained, well… he’d have a heck of a time getting Michael to agree. 

 

Michael sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Sara Beth… she’s in love with these animals and doesn’t believe they’re bad. She took the horse this afternoon. We haven’t seen her since.”

 

Slowing beside the building, they faced each other. Johnny understood the worry. Sugar wasn’t a normal riding horse. She wasn’t even a normal rough rider – she surpassed even the meanest of stallions – on a cranky day. On a regular day, her docility rivaled the sleeping horses. Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe she’s out for a long ride. You and I used to do that all the time, remember? Even pulled a few overnighters.” 

 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t worry, except Sugar returned three hours ago from that direction. Sara Beth had to have ridden her that direction to remain unseen. But we made it to the forest and got a call from the river. Someone reported seeing a rider on a horse that way down by the riverbed.” Michael pointed east toward the plains past Clearwater County. “We’ve been searching, but I had to call in more men. It’s too much ground to cover.”

 

Johnny didn’t hesitate. “Can I help?” He hadn’t been on a horse in a long time, but for Michael, he’d jump back in the saddle. They’d been close before they’d gone off to different colleges and ran with different crowds. Michael used to like the party scene while Johnny had enjoyed his weekends in the library.

 

Studying his long ago friend, Michael tilted his head. “Are you sure? I would appreciate it.” He eyed the bike before looking at Johnny again. “You can’t take that on the search, but you’re welcome to pick an animal from the stalls. Tack is hanging up. Just like always.”

 

Pulling off his tight leather jacket, Johnny laughed. “Like old times, huh? Hey, how’s your grandpa? I didn’t see him when I pulled in. Is he running the search?” Mr. Rourke had been crotchety as hell, but he’d always kept an out for the Mayfair kids when they’d been on the ranch. He’d appreciated respect and manners and hadn’t hesitated to make sure anyone on his ranch displayed both – in abundance.

 

Michael looked over Johnny’s shoulder, the skin around his eyes tightened. “He died about a year and a half ago. Stroke. It’s just me at the ranch with Rosie and her sister. You’ll meet Rosie when we’re finished. She’ll have my head, if I don’t find that sister of hers.”

 

“Oh man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Significant loss filled Johnny. How he’d missed out on that bit of information, he had no idea. Mr. Rourke had been a stalwart fixture in Clearwater County. His passing would’ve made front page news. 

 

“Well, you know, life happens.” Michael patted Johnny’s shoulder and pointed toward the milling crowd. “I’m going to get this started. We don’t have much light left with this storm comin’.”

 

While evenings were longer in the summer, dark clouds had rolled in late in the afternoon and the sun had disappeared. Johnny had had to choose between sunglasses on for dirt and wind while riding or none because of visibility. He’d gone with the aviator-style but had to squint most of the drive there to see in the near-dark.

 

Michael climbed onto the downed tailgate of a nearby Ford pickup. He whistled, piercing the murmuring and shuffling of the men. “Thank you all for coming. The girl we’re looking for is Sara Beth. Most of you know her from town. She’s blonde and petite. She’s been gone a while. The horse came from that direction. We’ll form a line and head out that way until we hit the river. Once there, we’ll spread out and search the banks. It’d be best not to worry, but just in case anything has happened to her, I have radios that you’re to take with you. Call for help and we’ll get to you as soon as possible.” He cleared his throat, looking down at riding gloves he pulled on. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

 

Most of the men mounted their own rides, moving to wait where Michael had indicated.

 

Michael jumped down from the truck bed. “We’re going to head out. Grab a horse and follow, Johnny. I’d appreciate any extra eyes we can get.” He picked up a handheld distance radio and thrust it into Johnny’s hand. “Everyone’s on channel six. Thirty mile radius. Just holler, if you find her.” He patted Johnny’s back once more before striding for his own large gelding tied off at the porch posts just past Johnny’s motorcycle.

 

Inside the meticulously kept barn, Johnny scraped his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have long to groom and prepare an unfamiliar horse. He clipped the radio to his belt and headed toward the tack room.

 

If he found the girl, chances were Michael would add gratitude to the “long-time friends” bit and listen as Johnny explained why no one else in the state of Montana would hire him. Maybe Michael would give him a job. Gratitude traveled far in the Montana mountains. And Johnny wasn’t above exploiting it when he needed to.

 

~~~

 

Johnny saddled a sorrel mare and was ready to go in short time. He grabbed a slicker from the closet inside the tack room and an extra black Stetson hanging from a hook in the same closet.

 

Leading the horse from the barn, Johnny stopped beside the ring and swung himself up into the saddle. Standing in the stirrups, he adjusted his jeans and slicker. Neither would be his first choice to head out into a burgeoning storm on horseback, but given the circumstances, he’d deal with it.

 

Sugar watched him from inside the training ring as if she recognized him. Knew he was there and where he’d come from. And maybe even what he was hoping to accomplish.

 

“I know your secrets, too, old girl.” He whispered, his warning captured by the wind and whipped around with the droplets of rain just beginning to make themselves known.

 

She’d been a runner. Had run all over when she could escape her stall. The damn horse never stayed where she was supposed to. In fact, Johnny had no doubt that she had come from the direction they said. The problem was, she’d probably skirted the entire acreage, looking for a way out.

 

But the river enclosed most of Clearwater County. Sugar had arrived from the east. Because Michael and his searchers had only gone to the forest line, Johnny had to go further in. West became his destination.

 

He prodded the borrowed horse toward a well-traveled path along the fence. The clouds watched him, studied him, waiting for the right moment to dump their treasures down upon him.

 

If he didn’t find that girl, it was going to be a long night.

 

~~~

 

Rain picked up, dousing him and the horse with sheets that coated them from top to bottom and sometimes bottom to top with each new gust of wind. Johnny ducked his head, the hat doing little to keep water from his face. Hell, when rain fell upward, nothing was staying dry.

 

They reached the tree line and Johnny pushed the animal under the protection of the thick canopy of needles and leaves. At least the wind abated, becoming a stiff breeze, leaving the rain to fall straight down. The change in the rain from thrusting, needle-like streams to a soft, massage-like drizzle was welcome.

 

Shaking off his slicker, Johnny wiped his face and eyes. He wouldn’t have seen anything out on the prairie with the deluge of water obstructing his vision so completely. He’d have to count on Michael’s assertions that they hadn’t seen her and they’d reached the tree line. 

 

He refused to climb down from his seat and abandon the last dry thing around for miles. The saddle offered warmth as well, holding the body heat radiating from the horse in its thick leather build.

 

Nudging the mare’s flank with his heel, Johnny watched for any sign that maybe the girl, Sara Beth, had taken the poorly developed trail his horse followed without guidance. Trees blocked out the worst of the wind while clouds covered the night sky, preventing light into the forest.

 

Johnny withdrew the Mag Lite flashlight from under the slicker and pointed its beam around him, into the forest and ahead up the trail. Dark shadows crept across the path.

 

Minutes passed. The rush of falling water cascading onto the varied forest surfaces turned into white noise. The mare pushed further forward, ears folded back.

 

A flash from Johnny’s right caught his eye. He trained the light under a bush with thick leaves and a ground clearance of about a foot. Reflective hat band embellishments shined innocently in the moss.

 

The first real sign he just might be on the right path.

 

He dismounted from the horse, bending and claiming the abandoned hat from the mud. Flashing the light around him and down through the trail, Johnny yelled. “Sara Beth! Sara Beth! You out here?”

 

He waited, the patter of rain his only reply.

 

If nothing else, he’d follow the path until he either saw something or the river forced him back.

 

Hopefully he found her. He wouldn’t wish this rain and cold on anyone.

 

Especially alone in the forest.

 

Sara Beth, where are you?