Chapter 24
Mark poked at the dead ashes with a stick. Rocks haphazardly circled the remains of a small campfire.
“Recent,” Mark muttered. “Damn fool to be starting a fire with all the dead brush around. Didn’t even have the sense to build it out in the open.” He reached up and snapped a dry overhanging branch. “One spark and this whole area could go up in smoke.”
Kade kicked the grass in an area to the side of the fire. “Built it close to where he bedded down.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Grass is matted. Looks like someone used it for a bed last night.”
Kade held Xanthous’ reins loosely in one hand and crouched, resting on his heels. He picked something up, and rubbed it between his fingers. Gingerly, he raised them to his nose and frowned.
“What?” Mark asked.
Hesitantly, Kade touched the tip of his tongue to his fingers and shook his head.
“Well,” groused Mark, “are you going to tell me what all that sniffing and tasting’s about?”
“Kool Aid.”
“Kool Aid?” Mark snorted.
“Grape.” Kade added, getting to his feet. “Seems our trespasser was having a midnight snack last night.”
“Now who in the billy-hell would be licking grape Kool Aid while laid out in front of a campfire?”
“Well, Mark, if we knew that, we wouldn’t be looking for the person setting these small fires we’ve come across the last week or so.”
“This is the fifth campfire so far,” Mark commented. “Don’t seem to be following any pattern. They’re set willy-nilly. Like someone was traveling with no destination in mind and just dropped when tired and made a fire for the night.”
“Yep. Some hungry someone.”
“What makes you say that?” Mark led his gelding over to the matted grass and nudged it with the toe of his boot.
“No signs of cooking, no scraps, and all are dry camps. I’d say our ‘guest’ is mighty hungry.”
“Well, hungry or not, we’d better come across him soon before one of these fires gets out of hand.”
Kade lithely rose to his feet and nodded. “That’s why we’re foregoing our comfortable beds and spending tonight sleeping under the stars.”
He tightened his grip on the reins and effortlessly vaulted into the saddle, turning Xanthous back on a narrow deer trail leading into a densely forested area. They were miles from the nearest line camp but still on Double K land. He drank in the natural beauty of the rugged country. High mountains, purple in the distance, were still sporting a cap of snow while Indian Paint Brushes waved their red heads, sharing the open areas dotted with scrub grass and sagebrush.
“Wonder why he don’t camp down by the creek?” Mark asked as he pulled alongside Kade. His horse reached out and playfully nipped at the proud stallion’s bridle.
Xanthous snorted and laid back his ears.
Mark bent over his horse’s neck and gave him a pat. “Don’t be stupid now, fella,” he chuckled.
“Doubt he knows there’s one there,” Kade said, answering Mark’s question. He rose taller in the saddle, looking in the distance. “The creek narrows here, meandering along the bottom of this trail and is hidden by brush and lodge pole pines. I’d bet we’re dealing with a tenderfoot.”
“All the more reason to find him fast. Too much down timber here.”
“We’ll find him. Probably not today though. We’re either going to have to make a dry camp, too, or cut down to the creek.”
“The creek,” Mark said. “I don’t aim to forgo my coffee when there’s a clear mountain stream ambling by.”
Kade chuckled. “You’re getting soft, Mark. You’ve been riding that bunk house mattress and eating Gran’s cooking too long.”
“Outdo you any day of the week,” Mark mumbled under his breath.
They broke from the trail, and single file, picked their way down the mountainside to the creek below.
An hour later they heard the singing of water as it tumbled over rocks and gnarled tree roots.
“God’s country,” Kade whispered softly.
He’d spent his childhood riding through these mountains, camping along grassy stream banks and catching his supper out of the cold melt-off. This was his land—his first love. Growing up he’d spent many a night alone, sitting around a campfire, bedding down with grass for a mattress, and his horse for company. Saddle bags full of provisions, he stayed out for days, learning the land and learning to trust his instincts. He soaked up everything his father and the older ranch hands taught him and knew he could survive on his own here in this harsh, and often unforgiving, country. He learned through his mistakes and never forgot their lessons. And he knew without a doubt the meaning of pride going before a fall. Just when you smugly thought you knew everything, the mountains threw you another curve. They were stern disciplinarians and didn’t tolerate fools.
“Looks like as good a place to roll out our bedrolls as any,” Mark called, interrupting his thoughts and pointing to a grassy area. His voice was muffled by the creek as it snaked its way down the mountain.
Kade knew that tonight he’d sleep with the water’s sweet lullaby whispering in his ears.
He dismounted and led Xanthous to the stream edge. The horse eagerly lowered his head to draw in the cold, pure water.
Mark’s horse tried to push his way alongside the stallion only to have Xanthous raise his head, narrow his eyes, and curl back his lips, revealing his large teeth. The younger horse stopped, muscles quivering, not daring to get any closer.
Mark chuckled. “You’d better smarten up,” he said, patting the horse’s neck while skillfully guiding him to a spot farther from the stallion.
Once the horses drank their fill, Kade and Mark unsaddled them and brushed their backs with a handful of long grass. Putting a lead rope on the younger horse left them free to enjoy the tender grass growing along the creek bank. Kade knew Xanthous wouldn’t venture from the camp. He was trained to come at his sharp whistle.
With efficiency born of years of experience, both men went about their tasks. Shortly, a peaceful calm settled over the camp. Smoke circled in the air as the fire popped, sending up a shower of sparks. The coffee pot, wedged between two rocks, hissed as flames licked the drops of water from the blackened sides.
Kade got out thick roast beef sandwiches Gran had packed and together with dill pickle spears and crisp peanut butter cookies, dinner was served.
Full and content, the two men stretched out as the high-country night quickly fell around them. Kade watched the smoke from the dying campfire curl spirals into the sky and gazed into the embers, letting his mind relax and wander. And if he saw a petite woman with raven black hair just before sleep overtook him, it was only a fitting ending to a perfect day.