Cy moved away from me and bent down to look at the wound on Boss’s front and hind legs. He ran soothing hands along the animal’s sides, his gentle handling of the animal made my heart squeeze. I liked him when he was gruff and unapproachable. I more than liked him when he was kind and thoughtful.
“If I was a betting man, I would put good money on this field and the guys on the motorcycles being connected.” He straightened back up and put his hands on his hips. “I would also bet that they were the ones behind the gunshot the other night. This part of the trail is pretty remote as we go up into the high country. Only our tour and hunters ever really come up this way. I think we’re standing in someone’s grow spot.” He sounded grim and the expression on his face matched his tone.
“Grow spot?” We were in Wyoming, not Columbia or Mexico. “You mean a drug field?”
He nodded and collected Boss’s reins in one hand and his horse’s in another. “Pot is big business a state over and a couple to the west of us. Marijuana growers have made their way into the mountains to grow product so they can ship it to the states where it’s been legalized. I haven’t seen it here, but some ranchers I do business with out of Montana had several acres of weed growing on their property without them knowing about it. They were clueless until the DEA came knocking on their door with warrants. It looks like it’s a problem that found its way here, and we are unfortunately right in the thick of the operation.”
“Why would they grow the pot here if it’s legal to grow in other places?” I was still confused about what was going on and what it meant for us, since we were still out in the middle of nowhere with several days to go until we got back to civilization.
“When the government gets involved that means fees and regulations. Typically, people who deal in narcotics don’t like to be told what to do and they don’t like to give Uncle Sam a cut of their profits. They grow the drugs in places that are hard to get to, heavily forested, and rarely visited by other people. They can sell the drugs for top dollar to the dispensaries and not worry about paying taxes and being regulated. This isn’t good. We are way too close to comfort to this operation and they are letting us know it. We need to get back and get everyone on a different trail. I’m going to move us all down so that we’re following the river. It’s more populated, so whoever has this operation out here is more likely to avoid areas with more people. I also need to see if I can catch Sutton before he heads out this way. I need let him know to alert the authorities. I don’t want him riding up here on his own with all this stuff happening.” His gaze drifted over me and his mouth dipped into a frown. “Are you feeling up to riding out of here? I can’t put you back on Boss until we get some salve on those cuts and get him bandaged up, but we can both hop up on Edgar.”
I lifted my arm and sucked in a pained gasp as my wrist protested, sending blinding pain shooting up to my elbow and beyond. Focusing on something else so I didn’t throw up from the pain, I wheezed, “You named your horse Edgar?”
He grimaced. “He was a wedding present from my dad when I moved back home. He was supposed to go to Selah. She loved Edgar Allen Poe.”
I walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. The muscle tensed under my fingers and his eyes shifted from stormy to graphite. “And you were supposed to love each other with a love that was more than love.” The line was from Annabel Lee, which was my favorite Poe poem. Somehow, even though it had only been days and minutes, time I spent with Cy felt more important than any that came before it.
“Didn’t quite work out that way.” The words were gruff and so was the man who muttered them low and deep. I could feel his regret and his remorse. It made me understand the difference between losing someone you really loved and losing someone you merely thought you loved. My heart hurt but it was already starting to bounce back from Chris’s mishandling of it. When Cy spoke about his past and what he had left there, it was evident his ex-wife had taken a big chunk of his heart with her when she left.
I squeezed the arm I was holding onto and asked, “Does it ever?” I mean, my grandparents had that kind of love but that was the only example I could think of.
We stared at each other for a long, silent moment, his eyes searching mine with unreadable intensity. Eventually, he reached out the hand with the leather reins wrapped around it and brushed the back of his knuckles across my cheek. They came away stained rusty red and I remembered I was still bleeding and banged up. Now wasn’t the time to allow myself to turn all mushy and sentimental about things that were never meant to be. It also made no sense to let myself fall for a man who wasn’t for me . . . but my heart was ignoring my head in a major way.
He tilted his head toward the saddle and told me to hop up. “Sometimes we get more than we asked for because we’ve settled for less for so long. When you pay your dues, you’re bound to be rewarded, eventually.”
With my wrist burning and my head back to pounding, I needed his help to get up onto his horse. His help involved a hand across my ass and a push, but it got the job done and it took my mind off the fact that I was back on a horse so soon after my terrifying ride through the woods. Balking and refusing to ride again didn’t even cross my mind, which was a revelation. It made me feel brave and proud of myself. My mission to locate that self-confidence and sense of who I was felt like it was well on its way to being complete.
Cy maneuvered Boss closer so that he could heft himself up behind me in the saddle. No matter how far forward I scooted on the saddle, his bulk and his heat took up all the available space, so I didn’t argue when he wrapped a heavy arm around my waist and tugged me to rest against his chest. It felt like a hug that was more than a hug and I liked that even his comfort was a mix of all his hardness and his softness. The man was an intoxicating mix of both and I was getting hooked on him at an alarming speed.
“If I was a betting man, I would put good money on this field and the guys on the motorcycles being connected.” He straightened back up and put his hands on his hips. “I would also bet that they were the ones behind the gunshot the other night. This part of the trail is pretty remote as we go up into the high country. Only our tour and hunters ever really come up this way. I think we’re standing in someone’s grow spot.” He sounded grim and the expression on his face matched his tone.
“Grow spot?” We were in Wyoming, not Columbia or Mexico. “You mean a drug field?”
He nodded and collected Boss’s reins in one hand and his horse’s in another. “Pot is big business a state over and a couple to the west of us. Marijuana growers have made their way into the mountains to grow product so they can ship it to the states where it’s been legalized. I haven’t seen it here, but some ranchers I do business with out of Montana had several acres of weed growing on their property without them knowing about it. They were clueless until the DEA came knocking on their door with warrants. It looks like it’s a problem that found its way here, and we are unfortunately right in the thick of the operation.”
“Why would they grow the pot here if it’s legal to grow in other places?” I was still confused about what was going on and what it meant for us, since we were still out in the middle of nowhere with several days to go until we got back to civilization.
“When the government gets involved that means fees and regulations. Typically, people who deal in narcotics don’t like to be told what to do and they don’t like to give Uncle Sam a cut of their profits. They grow the drugs in places that are hard to get to, heavily forested, and rarely visited by other people. They can sell the drugs for top dollar to the dispensaries and not worry about paying taxes and being regulated. This isn’t good. We are way too close to comfort to this operation and they are letting us know it. We need to get back and get everyone on a different trail. I’m going to move us all down so that we’re following the river. It’s more populated, so whoever has this operation out here is more likely to avoid areas with more people. I also need to see if I can catch Sutton before he heads out this way. I need let him know to alert the authorities. I don’t want him riding up here on his own with all this stuff happening.” His gaze drifted over me and his mouth dipped into a frown. “Are you feeling up to riding out of here? I can’t put you back on Boss until we get some salve on those cuts and get him bandaged up, but we can both hop up on Edgar.”
I lifted my arm and sucked in a pained gasp as my wrist protested, sending blinding pain shooting up to my elbow and beyond. Focusing on something else so I didn’t throw up from the pain, I wheezed, “You named your horse Edgar?”
He grimaced. “He was a wedding present from my dad when I moved back home. He was supposed to go to Selah. She loved Edgar Allen Poe.”
I walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. The muscle tensed under my fingers and his eyes shifted from stormy to graphite. “And you were supposed to love each other with a love that was more than love.” The line was from Annabel Lee, which was my favorite Poe poem. Somehow, even though it had only been days and minutes, time I spent with Cy felt more important than any that came before it.
“Didn’t quite work out that way.” The words were gruff and so was the man who muttered them low and deep. I could feel his regret and his remorse. It made me understand the difference between losing someone you really loved and losing someone you merely thought you loved. My heart hurt but it was already starting to bounce back from Chris’s mishandling of it. When Cy spoke about his past and what he had left there, it was evident his ex-wife had taken a big chunk of his heart with her when she left.
I squeezed the arm I was holding onto and asked, “Does it ever?” I mean, my grandparents had that kind of love but that was the only example I could think of.
We stared at each other for a long, silent moment, his eyes searching mine with unreadable intensity. Eventually, he reached out the hand with the leather reins wrapped around it and brushed the back of his knuckles across my cheek. They came away stained rusty red and I remembered I was still bleeding and banged up. Now wasn’t the time to allow myself to turn all mushy and sentimental about things that were never meant to be. It also made no sense to let myself fall for a man who wasn’t for me . . . but my heart was ignoring my head in a major way.
He tilted his head toward the saddle and told me to hop up. “Sometimes we get more than we asked for because we’ve settled for less for so long. When you pay your dues, you’re bound to be rewarded, eventually.”
With my wrist burning and my head back to pounding, I needed his help to get up onto his horse. His help involved a hand across my ass and a push, but it got the job done and it took my mind off the fact that I was back on a horse so soon after my terrifying ride through the woods. Balking and refusing to ride again didn’t even cross my mind, which was a revelation. It made me feel brave and proud of myself. My mission to locate that self-confidence and sense of who I was felt like it was well on its way to being complete.
Cy maneuvered Boss closer so that he could heft himself up behind me in the saddle. No matter how far forward I scooted on the saddle, his bulk and his heat took up all the available space, so I didn’t argue when he wrapped a heavy arm around my waist and tugged me to rest against his chest. It felt like a hug that was more than a hug and I liked that even his comfort was a mix of all his hardness and his softness. The man was an intoxicating mix of both and I was getting hooked on him at an alarming speed.
