Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) by Rebecca Carey Lyles Page B

under it. But they were the ranchers. She was the ignorant city slicker.
    The men latched the tailgate and looked around, scanning the herd. She followed their gaze. Only one cow with a slightly extended tail appeared interested in their activities.
    They turned their attention to the dead bison, swatting with their hats at the flies that swarmed above her huge body. Kate couldn’t hear what they said as they examined a dark spot behind the cow’s shoulder, but she could see them shake their heads with disgust. So the buffalo had been shot, and smart-mouth Cyrus was wrong about crime only occurring in big cities.
    She rested her forehead against the pole, wondering what Cyrus would say if he knew he worked with a real-life criminal. She straightened. No. She was not a criminal. Those days were behind her. But what if …? She stared across the pasture. What if she’d brought crime with her? Maybe Ramsey shot the buffalo. It was a crazy idea, but that could have been his way of getting back at Mike for running him off last night.
    Mike stood. “Open up, Kate. We’re ready to drive out.”
    Old Blue bounced by. Kate peeked at the calf. Mouth open and eyes so wide they were mostly white, the traumatized creature looked ready to hyperventilate.
    Mike helped her close the gate. His shoulder against hers made her stomach quiver. She reminded herself, twice, that Tara had said she and Mike were almost engaged.
    He pointed at a cow. “See the bison with the extended tail?”
    She nodded.
    “She sees us, she hears us. She smells us. The position of her tail says she’s interested in us but only mildly curious at the moment. The more irritated bison become, the more rigid and higher their tails get. If they’re really angry, their tails stand straight up. That’s when they’re the most dangerous, when they might charge a perceived enemy.”
    “Do you think she’ll get mad when you remove the dead cow?”
    “I don’t know if we’ll remove the cow or bury her. Depends on how long she’s been dead. But it’ll be at least a half hour before we return. The other cow will probably move on by then.”
    Kate leaned against the tailgate studying the calf, which had found its breath and was wailing again. “Would it be okay if I pet him—or her?”
    He smirked. “It’s a she. Go ahead. That’ll help get her used to humans.” He got into the truck. “Better have Mom make some phone calls.”
    She stepped onto the running board for a better reach. The calf ogled her, bug-eyed, and cried even louder. She touched its leg, which made it tremble and twitch. She moved to the other side of the truck bed, where it couldn’t see her, and gently rubbed its side. This time, the calf didn’t react as violently to her touch.
    She stroked its soft, rust-colored fur. “You’re going to be okay, little girl. We’ll get you some food.” The dusty-animal smell made her sneeze, but she muffled the sound in the crook of her elbow, for the calf’s sake.
    Ignoring Clint’s amused expression, she listened to Mike radio his mom. Moments later, Laura radioed back to say the department had a deputy on duty not far from the ranch who’d be there pronto. Mike told her that he and Clint would wait for the deputy and she would drive the calf to the barn.
    Kate tried not to react at the mention of an officer. She had nothing to hide, but with Ramsey in the area spreading rumors about her, she couldn’t be too cautious. “Should I drive the calf up there now? She must be really hungry.”
    “First, I’ll help you get a feel for the gears. This truck has its touchy spots.” Mike stepped out of the cab, and Kate crawled inside.
    He got in beside her, leaving the passenger door open. “Push the clutch in with your foot and grab the gearshift.”
    She could barely touch the clutch with her toe. “This cab is a bit bigger than my Honda.”
    He showed her how to move the seat forward.
    She pressed the clutch and clasped the gearshift. He