One Brave Cowboy

“She would have come back,” Celia said as she led the way into the barn.

The cat started purring. He liked the feel of it. “I’m like the boy. Don’t want her getting too far away from her litter.”

“Mark’s playing with them. I don’t think he realizes. I haven’t done a good job of impressing it on him that he has to… he can’t just…”

Cougar squatted beside the boy and released the cat into the newspaper-lined box, to the delight of her squirming, mewling kittens.

“Oh, look how welcome Mama is,” Celia said.

Cougar watched the kittens latch on to Mama for lunch. Mark was busy making sure all seven were hooked up. He didn’t seem to realize that disaster had zoomed in so close that its sickening taste still filled Cougar’s mouth. Maybe the boy had already filed the lesson away, and it would serve him down the road. Cougar wished he could do the same—a wish he probably shared with the kid’s mom. He turned, looking for confirmation, a little eye contact with her big, magnetic brown eyes, but she wasn’t there anymore. Not the hovering kind, apparently.

But how did she know Cougar wasn’t some kind of a whack job? She’d already told him he had the two of them pretty much all to himself. He’d drop a word of caution if he were the interfering kind of a…

He heard soft mewling—the human variety—coming though an open door to a dark room. He assured himself that the boy was thoroughly occupied before he stepped close to the door.

“Celia?” Her name rolled off his tongue as though he’d been saying it for years.

She drew a hiccough-y breath. “I’m… okay.”

She’s okay. Walk away.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“I just don’t want him to see me,” she whispered desperately.

Cougar stepped through the door. It was a tack room, and the woman stood tucked among the bridles. Small and slim as she was, she might have been one of them.

“How close was it, really?” she asked, her voice reedy.

“Close.”

“You couldn’t see him, but you stopped?”

“That’s right.” He didn’t quite know what to do with himself now that he’d crossed his own line. He’d just met the woman, and he felt like he was looking at her naked. He took a leather headstall in hand and hung on, steadying himself for a bumpy ride. “Some people have eyes in the back of their head. I have something inside my head. It picks up where the eyes and ears leave off. Sometimes. Not… not always.”

“Whatever it is, I need some.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “It doesn’t always turn out this good.”

“It did this time. Mark’s in his own world, and I’m on the outside, trying to look in. I blink, and he gets away from me.” She drew a quavering breath. “But he’s not hurt. What am I blubbering about?”

“I’ve still got the shakes, too. We know what could have happened. Mark doesn’t, so he doesn’t need to worry too much right now. We can do that for him.”

“He does know what could have happened. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows better than we do.” She swallowed so loudly Cougar could taste her tears. “He had a terrible accident. Lost an eye.”

“Car accident?”

“No. It happened…” She shut herself down. He had all the details he was getting right now. “This isn’t the first time I blinked.”

“Won’t be the last. You got another pair of eyes in your family?”

“Mark’s father and I are divorced.” She paused, shifting gears. “I want what you have. A mother’s instincts aren’t enough with a child like Mark.”

“Ordinarily I’d say take mine, but I’m glad I had it goin’ on today.”

“Me, too.” She took a swipe at each eye with the back of her wrist as she emerged from her little harbor. “Just Cougar?”

“It’s all I need. Pretty big name.”

“It’s a great name.” He took half a step back as she edged past him. A singular moment had passed. “You know, the winner of the training contest gets twenty thousand dollars.”

“Yeah, that’s what Sergeant Tutan said.” He followed her through the tack room door. “Mary Tutan. She’s the one who told me about the competition.”

“Oh, yes, Mary,” she said, her voice brightening. “She just got married.”

“I stopped in and met her husband before I came here. She’s…”

“… back in Texas.”

“Says she’s put in for discharge. Kinda surprised me.” Seeing the boy with the kittens made him smile. “Sergeant Tutan had lifer written all over her. She’s a damn good soldier. Uncle Sam will miss her, but she’s served well.”

She took his measure with a look. “You, too?”

“I’ve been out for two months now. Officially.” Which was like saying her son had had an accident. There was a lot more to it, but nobody wanted to go there. “Tell Sally I’ll be at Logan’s place. I’ll check back in with her.” He reached down and touched Mark’s shoulder. “You’ve got a nice family there.” The boy offered up a little calico. Cougar rubbed the top of its head with his forefinger and nodded. “They’re too young to leave their mama.”

“Maybe we’ll see you when you come back for your horse,” Celia said. “You’ll get to choose.”

“If Mark’s around, maybe he could help me with that.” He still had the boy’s attention, maybe even some awareness of what he was saying. Cougar felt some connection. Close calls could have that effect. He’d experienced enough of them to know that. “I’ll bet you know the mustangs around here pretty well. I could use your advice.”

“He’d like that,” Celia said. “Thank you. I…” She laid her hand on his arm. Against his will he turned, took her eyes up on their offer of a clear view into her heart. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t wait to get out the door. He couldn’t handle that kind of gratitude. It wasn’t about anything he’d done. It was about not doing the unthinkable. At best it was about an accident that hadn’t happened, and he needed to put some distance between his image of what might have been and the faces in the image.

At the same time he wanted to hang around, which was pretty damned surprising. And it was about as uncomfortable as a new pair of boots.

Logan Wolf Track lived in a log house just outside the town of Sinte, where he served as a tribal councilman for his Lakota people. Cougar’s mother had been Lakota, but he was enrolled with the Shoshone, his father’s people. Cougar hadn’t met Logan until he’d knocked on the Wolf Track door the previous night. Sergeant Mary Tutan Wolf Track was the person they had in common. A white woman, strangely enough.

Or maybe it wasn’t that strange. Indian country was more open these days than ever before, what with the casinos and educational programs that opened up opportunities for people on both sides of what had long been an unchallenged fence. But before these changes and beyond Indian country, there had been the military. Cougar’s people had been serving in ever-increasing numbers for generations.

Cougar had been an army police officer—an MP—and Mary had been a dog handler. She’d served as a trainer—most recently in Afghanistan—and as far as Cougar was concerned she was the best trainer in uniform. She’d paid him a visit in the hospital in Kandahar, and she’d written to him after he was transferred stateside. More recently, they’d spoken by phone. Their mutual interest in training animals had given her something cheerful to talk about, and when Mary had talked up the wild horse training competition, she had his full attention. She’d planted an idea that had pulled him out of the seclusion he’d sought after his release from a VA hospital.

Cougar was glad to see Logan’s pickup parked in his driveway. It wasn’t home—Cougar towed his house around with him these days—but Logan Wolf Track was the kind of guy who made you feel at home. Fellow Indian, fellow cowboy, husband of a fellow soldier. Logan opened the door before Cougar’s knuckles hit the wood.

“Did you get signed up?” Logan asked as he handed Cougar a welcoming cup of coffee.

“Not yet.” Cougar settled in the kitchen chair Logan offered with a gesture. “The boss was out.”

“Nobody around?” He said it like such a thing never happened.