If Duke’s high-speed approach on the Polaris was meant to intimidate Asadi, it had certainly done the trick. Drunk or not, the driver handled the machine masterfully. A few feet before impact, he slammed on the brakes and turned left into a skid, kicking up a spray of powdery snow that billowed into a frozen white cloud and glistened in the moonlight.
In a fit of laughter, Duke dabbed the bloody gash on his head with the bandanna. “What’s your problem, kid?” He flashed a boozy grin. “You crap your pants?”
Savanah responded first. “You’re the problem.” She marched over to the driver’s side and killed the motor. “Do you even know what you did?”
It was clear by the look on Duke’s face that he didn’t like being dressed down. He shifted in his seat, looking half-angry, half-alarmed. He finally mustered up a response. “You can’t talk to me like that. You work for me.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Not the other way around.”
Savanah shook her head. “No, I work for your aunt. And she’s going to be super pissed to learn that her prized quarter horses are not in the stalls when the storm hits.”
Duke’s facial expression registered a big uh-oh, but his ego responded, “Who cares? They’re freaking animals. Supposed to live outside.”
“Maybe that’s true.” Savanah’s retort came out as smooth as silk. “But did you know Star Dancer Cat is out there?” When Duke didn’t answer, she continued. “Tell Vicky that she’s just an animal and we’ll see what happens.”
Asadi knew that the prized three-year-old bay filly was valued at three-quarters of a million dollars. The others ranged from seventy-five thousand to a hundred and twenty-five thousand apiece. Price tags meant nothing to Savanah. She gave each animal the same love and attention she showered on her cherished rescue horses. But Vicky would care about their worth.
Duke feigned indifference. “Money doesn’t mean as much to us as it does to people like you.”
Savanah wasn’t fazed by the insult. “Does the name Stratton mean anything?”
Duke swallowed hard. “Senator Stratton?”
A nod came from Savanah. “Star Dancer Cat belongs to his wife. It’s her baby. Vicky told me that whatever I do, keep that horse safe. Protect her with your life were her exact words.”
Duke’s boldness faded. “Well, all we have to do is go out there and get them again.” He turned and stared into the darkness. “Pasture gate is closed. Probably just bunched in a corner.”
Savanah looked out into the black nothingness. “Let’s hope so.”
Asadi knew what Savanah was thinking because he was thinking it too. When horses were badly startled, they weren’t always easily stopped. At night, it would be easy for them to bust through a barbed-wire fence and keep on going.
“I’ll help you bring them back,” Asadi offered, “but we have to hurry.” He turned and surveyed the moonlit landscape. “Once the storm rolls in they’ll be hard to move.”
Savanah looked to the Polaris. “Duke, I need to borrow this.”
Duke whapped the passenger seat with his palm. “All right, hop in.”
“No way.” Asadi tilted his head at Savanah. “Let her drive.”
Duke looked as if he might protest, but then thought better of it. “Fine. Free me up for better things anyhow.” He pulled a Coors Light can from the cupholder and took a long swig.
Savanah looked down at the feed bucket at her feet, then to Asadi. “I don’t think coaxing the horses in is going to work now. We’re going to have to push them from behind into the corral.”
It was a riskier option with the horses now agitated, but he couldn’t disagree. They’d have to fan out and drive them back to the barn. Once the horses were safe, he could head back to the house—hopefully before his dad or Butch knew he was gone.
The awkward drive to the back side of the pasture was made in near-total silence. The alcohol had made Duke drowsy, and Savanah was fuming mad. Asadi was thankful that her anger was directed at the guy in the passenger seat. Apparently, Duke wasn’t mister perfect after all.
Trying to resist a huge smile at the thought, Asadi zipped up his Carhartt coat and pulled the hood over his head. The wind was starting to burn his ears. He rubbed them with frozen hands, then leaned forward as their headlights met the horrific sight. It wasn’t only the busted fence posts that turned his stomach, it was the bloody horsehair that was caught in the barbed wire.
Savanah was the first to muster up a response. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”
Asadi looked out into the frozen nothingness of the plains, where the horses were injured and suffering—maybe even dead.
Duke spoke in a panicked voice. “What are we gonna do?”
“We’re going to find them, you idiot!” Savanah’s voice billowed into rage. “Right. Now!”
Asadi couldn’t disagree that time was a critical factor, but he was due back home hours ago. He was about to suggest they turn around and go back when Savanah jammed her foot on the gas and maneuvered the Polaris through a gap where the wires were cut.
Asadi leaned forward and stared ahead at where the headlight’s beams met the trail of hoof tracks. He glanced at Savanah, but her gaze was fixed ahead at the endless succession of snowy sandhills that glowed an eerie shade of blue in the moonlight. Reasoning that the horses might be just over the ridge, he convinced himself to wait before making his plea to turn back.
A frantic Savanah drove over one dune, then another, and then several more, until they were somewhere in the middle of a trough within the two-story-high sandhills, going farther into the middle of a ranch that was roughly the size of Washington, D.C. In the middle of the Mescalero’s wilderness, it felt as if they were on a life raft, caught between the waves, in a storm out at sea.
Asadi turned, searching in every direction, but nothing was familiar. And pretty soon the hoofprints were scattered as well. After a good fifteen minutes of driving, Savanah stopped. Any sign of the horses had disappeared. And all that was left were their tracks, which seemed to either zigzag in random patterns or morph into figure eights.
It didn’t take long to determine that it wasn’t only the horses that were lost. They were in just as much danger as the animals, if not a whole heck of a lot more.