Levi Duke let the engine idle and rubbed his temple. Banjo, the sizable mutt with the chunk missing from one ear, sprawled in his passenger seat and licked the knee of Levi’s jeans. The dog slithered his way under Levi’s palm until he got the ear rub he was looking for. Mission accomplished, he flopped over and presented his belly, long legs taking up more than his fair share of the room. His fleas and the mud were gone now, thanks to a bath that had been a struggle of epic proportions, his leg wound treated too. His ribs were not quite as prominent as the day Levi’d found him panting and half dead in a dry creek bed. The dog had introduced himself with eyes desperate for help, and the faintest of tail wags. Who could say no to that?
The cell phone chimed.
“We’re just clearing the Funeral Mountains.” Mara’s voice was cool, in spite of the faint southern drawl. Never could hide her feelings. She was upset with him for inviting her brother Seth to partner with him in purchasing the Rockinghorse Ranch. Maybe she had a right to be. A busted up old ranch just outside Death Valley National Park, a place so hot it was nearly uninhabitable four months of the year? Not exactly a sure fire moneymaker. But it wasn’t really about the money, not for him, anyway. He was surprised Mara had even agreed to accompany Seth to meet the mare. Maybe Mara was softening to the idea? Not likely.
“Be careful,” he said. “Road’s steep. I’ll meet you at the farm and introduce you to Cookie. She’s a sweetheart.” Offered for sale by a local, the mare would be a perfect fit for their current herd of eleven if co-owner Seth approved. They needed more horses pronto, to meet the tourist demands for the November Camp Town Days Festival the following week.
There was a pause. “All right.”
The follow up pause lingered as he tried to figure out what to say next. A shiver went through him, that strange combination of fascination and bewilderment that raven haired Mara awakened in him ever since he’d met her in high school typing class. He’d flunked typing, but he sure had spent plenty of time wondering what Mara was thinking in that seat in front of him, her hair dark as the nighttime desert sky.
Mara cut through his thoughts. “Be there in a half hour.”
He almost smiled at her annoyed tone. Mara had always worn her heart on her sleeve. There was no pretense about her. He’d finally worked up the courage his senior year to ask her to the school dance.
She’d laughed. “I don’t want to cram into a gym and listen to loud music and drink watery punch. How about we go fishing instead?”
They had and Levi had developed an undeniable crush on his best friend’s tomboy sister.
November temperatures were the most palatable of the whole year. Death Valley, the hottest location in North America, cooled somewhat in the fall, making it prime tourist season. The town was abuzz with preparations for Camp Town Days which would feature reenactments of the famous 20 Mule Team journeys that would take visitors across Furnace Falls, vendor displays, and plenty of old fashioned fun for the visitors. Tourists would need horses and guides, tours of the Keane Wonder Mine and wagon rides. He and Seth would be ready to meet the need especially if they could acquire another even tempered mare to add to the Rocking Horse family.
The miles passed quickly as he drove to Hank’s property which was at the bottom of a perilously pitched road. So pitched, in fact, that if they purchased the animal he’d have to ride the mare up to the flat plateau above since they could not get a trailer down the grade.
Riding the brakes, he made it to the bottom and parked on the graveled drive that led to Hank’s house and barn. A rumble indicated an approaching vehicle, but the sound was too high and thin for a car engine. Banjo stared out the open window, nose twitching, an agitated whine escaping his fleshy lips. A motorcycle, he decided. Someone visiting Hank’s farm...but minutes passed without any sign of an approach. He peered upward where the road wound in and out of sight amidst the foothills. Nothing. Weird. Again, unease tightened his stomach.
But there was nothing wrong, nothing at all. He tried to shake off the feeling. Probably just out of sorts because he’d forgotten to eat lunch. Again.
The glove box of his pickup supplied a half melted granola bar which he ate, window rolled down. He tossed the last bite to Banjo who swallowed it without even chewing.
Banjo barked. The mysterious motorcyclist? Still Levi could not spot it. Odd.
He heard the rumble of what had to be Seth’s SUV. A glimpse of bright yellow paint proved him right. He shifted at the thought of seeing Mara. Seth was always the genial, happy go lucky guy who reminded Levi of his own brother Austin. His sister was another breed all together.
As the vehicle made the hairpin turn and began to inch down the slope, Seth stuck an arm out the window and waved. Levi waved back, grinning.
A sound sliced through the afternoon. His body recognized it before his brain did and he reflexively ducked. A shot.
