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Damon scowled at the woods that bordered his land to the west. He had seen wolf tracks around the area. He wasn’t concerned that they would be able to take down one of his bison in a herd, but he was worried for the calves separated with their mothers. Thankfully, the grizzlies were hibernating at this time and wouldn’t pose a threat during the winter. A big boar grizzly could take down a bison, though not without injury. He knew this from experience.
The sound of a side-by-side UTV coming toward him caught his attention, and he watched as Patti pulled up. She got off and brought a sack with her over to his truck. He rolled down the window, and she handed it to him.
“If I had known not having bacon and coffee this morning would keep you out of the house all day, I would do it more often.”
He snorted.
Her face softened as she looked at him, but she didn’t voice whatever she was thinking.
“What’s on your mind, Patti?”
“Are you doing okay?” The wrinkles around her eyes were deeper than usual as she looked at him with concern.
He frowned. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She leaned her arms on the open window ledge and tilted her head at him. “It’s just that Valerie is back. And this is the first time in months that you haven’t come in for lunch or a break or to chat with Josiah and I about anything, so I thought that maybe something was wrong. Maybe she’d brought up bad memories of Harmony?”
“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.” He attempted a smile, but knew she saw right through it.
She waited, leaning against his truck.
He sighed. “You know, you’re letting the cold into my truck.”
Patti pursed her lips but stepped away. “Just...talk to us. I know things have been hard on you since the divorce. I’m here for you. So is Josiah.”
Damon offered a brief smile. “I know that, and you both know that I will always be a rock for this family.” He rolled the window up. The smell of beef stew and fresh bread came from the bag, and his stomach rumbled. Truth was, he’d thrown himself into work today, not taking notice of time, not wanting to get caught up in thoughts of the woman he’d sat with this morning. The chemistry was still there—more, if possible—and he hadn’t wanted to dwell on it. Valerie had left once, and she’d leave again, and there was no way he would make himself go through that again.
“Damon,” the voice crackled through the radio on his dash.
“Here.”
“We have a problem in the south pasture. A big problem.”
“Coming.” Food would have to wait. He set the bag down on the floor of the passenger side and turned the truck in the direction of the south pasture. Packed snow showed the paths that were usual for the vehicles to take, and the back of his truck slid when he hit a patch of ice. He gave the brakes a couple of gentle pumps and got it straightened out, not wanting to get into the powdery, unpacked snow on either side of the tracks.
The problem his ranch hand had been talking about quickly became obvious as he got near to the pasture. Two other trucks and five men were at the location of a massive hole in the fence. The panel fence was tall and broad and the metal posts were pounded deep into the ground. How this had happened, he didn’t know, but uneasiness pricked at his skin. Not in all his years had anything happened to the massive fence like this.
He stopped the truck and jumped out. “Tell me what you know.” He strode to his men, eyes moving across the torn down fence panel, taking in the details.
His foreman, Wayne, an older man with deep wrinkles and sharp blue eyes, took his wool cap off and ran a hand through his gray hair. “All we know is that most of the herd in this pasture are still contained; however, we have a couple of young bulls and a female that are missing.”
Damon blew out a harsh breath and rubbed his face as he looked over the wreckage, the bison that were coming closer to take a look at what was going on, and the tense faces of his guys.
“Okay. Keep one of the trucks across this area as a barricade for the herd inside and start working on repairing this. Emile and Nathan, let’s pack some feed, follow the tracks, and see where those three got to.” He left Wayne to oversee the fixing of the fence and ensure the rest of this herd stayed in.
In the back of his truck, he kept snowshoes, and he put them on now, knowing they would help him make quicker progress. Indeed, the three men set off, following the deep tracks of the heavy bison, and Damon quickly drew ahead of the other two. The snow got deep enough as they trekked on that he was thankful he didn’t try to bring the truck out this way. All foliage, willows and shrubs, were buried, and the only things visible were trees in the distance. He got to the crest of a rise and found the bison. They were standing together in deep snow, their heavy exhales visible in the cold air.
Damon turned back and met with the guys. “Let’s lead them back with food. We can lay down what we brought to lure them closer and then have a truck and trailer waiting with hay to lead them to the gate.”
Emile went back while Nathan, a young man who was quiet and hardworking, stayed and laid out a path of food with Damon. They didn’t yet make the bison aware of their presence. Neither man could run fast enough in the snow to get away should one of the bison get testy.
When he saw the truck and trailer with the feed on it drawing near, Damon started making the low, long call for the bison, moving along as quickly as he could while dropping feed. He made sure that Nathan was ahead of him, in case of any issues that arose with the animals.
It was only a moment before the bison appeared over the rise, noses to the snow as they gobbled the cubes of feed dropped.
The guys made it back to the truck and Nathan got in while Damon hopped onto the small trailer with the feed, still calling to the cows in the low, calm call they always used during feeding to get the animals accustomed to coming when they wanted them to.
They drove slowly as the bison trotted along behind, eyes on the feed.
The way to the gate took several minutes as the truck pulled the trailer carefully over the snow packed terrain. As they got closer, the bison flared their noses and started to get antsy. Damon narrowed his eyes as he studied them, trying to figure out what was causing their anxiety. The younger of the bulls snorted, tossing his massive head, the horns they’d trimmed for safety reasons still looking threatening. He was also getting the others riled up.
“Coooome on, feed. Get some feed.” He tossed a little grain in the direction of the bull causing problems, hoping he’d take a moment to eat it and get behind enough that he wasn’t instigating the other two into a frenzy.
The bison stopped and his head went down, but a gust of wind must have brought a smell he didn’t like, for his head came up and he growled, running forward and shoving the other male in the shoulder. More angry noises and slamming bodies ensued and the female panicked, running forward at an angle and slamming into the trailer. Damon felt himself lift off, feet leaving the solid grounding of the trailer, his body arching up over the ground. He blinked, twisted to try to land on his feet, and then his brain caught up with reality, and he realized that landing on his feet was the least of his problems. He was plummeting down in the path of the charging male bison.