One Brave Cowboy

Not a word from the boy.

Cougar took the risk of patting the hand on his shoulder. It was okay. His hand was steady. “But you’re all right, huh? No harm done?”

No response. Kid was either scared speechless, or he was deaf.

Or blind. One eye, anyway. The other eye didn’t move. Cougar looked him up and down again, but the only sign of blood was a skinned knee peeking through a stained hole in his jeans.

Wordlessly the boy turned tail and sped away like a fish running up against a glass wall. Cougar stood slowly, pushing off on his thighs with less than steady hands, lifting his gaze from the soles of the boy’s pumping tennis shoes, down the road to the finish line.

The barn’s side door flew open, and there was Mama. She was all sound and flurry. “Mark!”

Get set, go! Cougar heard within his head, where his pounding pulse kept pace with retreating feet. He got back into his pickup and let the tires crawl the rest of the way, passing up the house for the barn, where the woman—small, slight, certainly pretty and pretty certainly upset—would be somebody to talk to. The options—all but one—weren’t exactly jumping out at him.

He parked, drew a long, deep breath on the reminder that he hadn’t killed anybody today and then blew it out slowly, again thanking any higher power that might be listening. The doc’s slow, deep breathing trick seemed to be working.

“Is the boy all right?” Cougar called out as he flung the pickup door shut.

The woman held the boy’s face in her hands, checking for damage. Cougar watched her long, lush ponytail bob and weave as she fussed over her charge. It swung shoulder to shoulder as she turned big, bright, beautiful brown eyes on Cougar. “What happened?”

For the sake of those wondrous eyes he wished he had an answer. “Whatever he told you.” He took a step, testing his welcome. “I’m still not sure.”

“He hasn’t told me anything. He doesn’t speak.”

Cougar looked down at the boy, who appeared to be taking his measure. “So you weren’t holding out on me. But you took off before I got around to saying I’m…” He offered his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“What happened?” the woman insisted.

“I’d say he came out of nowhere, but that would sound like an excuse. All I know is that I slammed on the brakes, and…” He shook his head. “Then I saw his cap, then a hand and I thought I’d, uh… hit—” he glanced at the boy, and his stomach knotted “—somebody.”

“You stopped before you saw anything?”

“Yeah. Well, I…” He owed it to her straight, just the way he remembered it. “I had a feeling. It’s hard to explain. I guess I was admiring the scenery.” He adjusted his new brown Stetson, stirred some gravel beneath his shifting boots. “I didn’t see him. Didn’t hit the horn, nothing.”

“I was just getting some…” She gestured toward the door she’d left open. “Oh, God, I wasn’t paying attention. I let him slip…” She gave her head a quick shake. “I slipped. For a minute. More than a minute.” She pulled the boy’s head to her body. The top of it fit nicely between her breasts. He gave her a quick hug and then ducked under her arms and backed away, leaving her empty arms still reaching for him. “Oh, Markie-B, I thought you were playing with the kittens.”

“I guess the mama got away. He was chasing her.” Cougar’s gaze connected with the boy’s. “Right, Mark? You were just trying to bring Mama Cat back to her babies.”

“Was it close?” the woman asked, almost inaudibly.

“He must’ve tripped. He was face-in-the-dirt. Blew the knee out of his jeans.” He turned to the woman. “He can’t hear, either?”

She shook her head. “As far as we know.”

“Don’t they have tests for that?” You just crossed the line, Cougar.

“Yes, of course. Tests. All kinds of tests.” She offered him her hand. “I’m Celia Banyon. My son, Mark, is a mystery. We really don’t know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, it was close.” Either the truth or her touch made him weaken inside. He glanced away. “Really close.”

“I’m… He looks…” She cleared her throat, stepped back, and her hand slid away. “Are you here to see Sally?”

That’s right. He was on a mission that had nothing to do with a stray kid.

“I’m here about the training contest. The name’s Cougar.”

“First? Last?”

“Always.” She gave him a puzzled look, and he took a shot at smiling. “Just Cougar. One name is enough.” He glanced at the house. “Is she here?”

“Nope, it’s just me and Mark holding down the fort today. Everyone else is either out in the field or taking care of business. You’re a trainer?”

“I’ve trained my own horses, yeah. I heard about this wild horse contest from a friend, so I thought I’d have a look for myself, see if I can qualify.”

“Mustang Sally’s Wild Horse Makeover Competition. I’m not actually involved. We’re volunteers with the sanctuary. Aren’t we, Mark?” She touched the boy’s shoulder, and he looked up at her. “We help Sally with the horses, don’t we?” Then turning her attention back to Cougar, she shaded her eyes with her hand. “Sally and her husband had an appointment. Everyone else is working. I could get you an information packet from the office.” She glanced at the boy. “We need to go in and take care of your knee anyway, don’t we?”

Mark was staring at Cougar, who felt obliged to honor the eye contact since the boy seemed to be a few senses short of a full house.

“Where was he?” Celia asked. “He couldn’t’ve been far away. Right? He was right here with me, and then…”

“He’s pretty quick on his feet.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Boy, do I know.”

“I’ll come back later.” Cougar stepped back, giving the woman plenty of space for worries that were no longer his business. The boy was unharmed.

“If you’d like to leave Sally your number…”

“I’ll call her later. Think I’ll head back over to Sinte and hang out for a while.”

“I’ll let Sally know.” When he stepped back, she quickly added, “Where are you from?”

“Wyoming. Wind River country.”

“Did you make a special trip?”

“Up until I met up with Mark it was pretty ordinary.”

“I meant…” She reconsidered, and then she nodded, reached for the boy and drew him under her wing. “Next time…”

“Yeah.” He gave a wink when he caught Mark’s eye. “We’ll be careful. We’ll watch out for each other.”

Down the road, Cougar ran across the gray cat. She was sitting exactly where he’d last seen her, as though she was waiting to be picked up. He stopped and did exactly that. The cat didn’t object, not even when he slid his hand around her belly. He could feel her swollen teats. The gooseneck trailer he was towing complicated his U-turn, but he wasn’t about to back down the road. He knew a thing or two about blind spots.

Celia appeared in the doorway, shaded her eyes and watched him warily. Probably thought he’d been casing the place and come back to cause mayhem. Couldn’t blame her.

“I found the cat,” he called out as he alighted, holding the animal to his chest. “Thought it might be a comfort.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t reach for the cat, and he didn’t offer it. She looked a little ashen. Delayed shock, maybe. They just looked at each other while he stood there like an overgrown kid, rubbing the cat behind her ears.