Despite the sudden dropped call, which were common in Afghanistan, Asadi was on cloud nine after talking to Faraz. He was bursting at the seams as he drove out to the Mescalero Ranch, wanting to shout it from the rooftops, but there was no one around with which to share the news. The only one who would value the report as much as Garrett and Butch was Savanah.
Despite their differences, they’d been there for each other through thick and thin. She’d been his confidant on the issue all along. And since there was no way to reach her out in the barn, Asadi decided to drive over to tell her about Faraz in person. Of course, taking Butch’s old flatbed Ford pickup was liable to land him in some hot water, but Garrett had said, “Sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” And this seemed like one of those occasions.
Asadi had been strictly forbidden from driving off the ranch onto the highway since he didn’t have a license, barring a life-or-death emergency. While learning about his brother was a huge deal, it didn’t constitute a crisis. But with the others inspecting the pipeline disaster, he was certain he could make it to the Mescalero and back before anyone knew he was gone.
Asadi pulled up to the barn to find the John Deere Gator that Savanah used to get from the house to the barn. It was parked next to a red and black Turbo Polaris RZR. It was the same sport utility task vehicle (UTV) that Duke had used to rip and thrash over the nearby sandhills—the massive grass-covered dunes that reached two stories high in some places on the ranch.
Asadi understood the temptation because it looked like a blast. But it had scarred the land severely and it would take years to recover. Not only that, he couldn’t help but wonder if Duke was behind the poaching on their land. There was no proof of it yet, but anyone with such disregard for nature might be capable of such a despicable act.
It was a theory and nothing more, but he’d definitely circle back to investigate. With more important issues at hand, Asadi shoved his anger aside, put the truck in park, and flew out the door. He was about halfway between the truck and the barn when lo and behold, Duke marched out the front door and stopped abruptly, putting his hands on his hips like Superman.
“Thought I made it clear earlier that this place was off-limits.” Duke flashed his fake grin. “Like I said, don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Asadi responded with equal boldness. “Just need to see Savanah. Will only take a minute.”
“Well, she’s on the clock right now. Bringing horses in from the pasture before the storm. Doesn’t have a minute to spare.”
Duke’s reasoning struck a chord with Asadi, who knew how devastating a blizzard could be, particularly when you had livestock. High winds, subzero temperatures, and whiteout conditions were all possibilities. Butch had told him that back in the 1950s, a particularly harsh storm on the High Plains had killed eleven people and decimated around 20 percent of the cattle.
Asadi and Butch had already made sure their own herd had plenty of hay near their windbreak panels where the animals could hunker down and hide. But it’d still be a fight for survival. Forecasts were predicting wind gusts of up to fifty miles per hour. Given that harsh reality, it wasn’t a great time for a friendly visit.
Asadi reluctantly conceded. “Okay, I won’t stay long. Just need to tell her to call me later.”
“Nope.” Duke shook his head. “I’ll do it.”
Knowing she’d never get that message, Asadi marched right ahead toward the barn. He had nearly made it by when Duke grabbed his shirt at the buttons beneath his chin and yanked him so close that Asadi could smell the beer on his breath. To the unskilled fighter it might’ve been a problem, but to the trained martial artist it was manna from Heaven.
Asadi simply reached up and dug his thumb into the pressure point at the base of Duke’s index finger, which caused him to yelp and immediately let go. Freed from the trap, he could’ve turned and fled. But adrenaline and wounded pride was a dangerous combo. In a lightning-quick motion, Asadi twisted Duke’s arm behind his back and shoved him toward the wall.
It all would’ve been without much consequence had it not been for the slight rise in the concrete. The lip caught the toe of his Duke’s boot and sent him tumbling face-first into the door frame. He wobbled a moment on weak knees and then crumpled. It looked as if he might collapse to his side, but he managed to stay upright where he sat, leaning against the wall.
Asadi dashed over to find a three-inch gash on Duke’s forehead. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it over.
Duke took the bandanna and just sat there in stunned silence, gingerly dabbing the wound. His glassy eyes connected with Asadi’s and he spoke a bit groggily. “Does it look bad?”
Apparently the trademark Kaiser vanity superseded everything else. Rather than tell Duke the truth, Asadi opted for a change of subject. “I’ll go get help.”
Sprinting through the open double doors at the back of the barn, Asadi made his way across the empty corral to the planked fence on the opposite end. A quick clamber to the top and he spotted Savanah walking in beneath the glow of the moonlight. She was leading four grown horses and a couple of rambunctious colts. The little ones were turning in circles and kicking up their back hooves. Every so often Savanah rattled her feed bucket to keep their attention.
Asadi called out to her in a loud whisper, “Hey, Savanah, it’s me!”
“Asadi?” She looked up startled. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, I need your help.”
“Can this wait?” There was a clear edge to her voice, and it would’ve been much louder and angrier had she not been afraid of spooking the horses. “I’m kind of busy.”
Asadi didn’t quite know how to explain what happened. He eased up closer, careful to make no sudden movements. “Duke is hurt. Might need a doctor.”
Savanah’s face scrunched with her confusion. “Hurt? I just saw him a few minutes ago. How did he get hurt?”
Asadi cleared his throat before the confession. “Well . . . I . . . sort of pushed him.”
“Great, that’s all I need.” She pointed to the corral. “Shut the gate behind me and help me get the horses inside. Once they’re safe and sound we’ll tend to Duke.”
Asadi was debating when to tell Savanah about Faraz when he heard an angry mechanical roar and turned to find Duke racing up on his Polaris. And he wasn’t slowing down. Asadi sprinted to the gate, ready to close it the moment the horses were inside the corral. But it was already too late. They nickered, then turned, and bolted toward the darkness of the pasture.
Asadi tried to catch them but couldn’t stop the stampede. Within seconds, all he could hear was their thundering hooves, as the horses tore off into the sixty-eight thousand acres of the Mescalero Ranch—and over a hundred square miles of frozen wilderness.