My finger moves to hover over the trigger only once I’m sure my kill will be clean, and a gentle squeeze of pressure is all that’s left to precede the violent eruption of the bullet leaving its chamber. The sound still echoing through the trees for a few seconds after the deer has already collapsed to the soil.
In the immediate aftermath, I’m motionless as well, listening in the subsequent quiet for any sound that might suggest I’m not the only one who heard the shot.
With a half-day’s hard ride from the nearest town of Troy’s Hill and without a Navajo settlement nearby for trade, anyoneelse I might happen across today would either be out here with a purpose already in mind or would be just as likely to want to stay undiscovered. In either case, a scenario best left avoided.
How long? How long can this last?
There’s no answer. Not that I expect one. The only other sound—welcome or unwelcome—that I encounter is my own grunt of discomfort when I eventually get to my feet, my stiff muscles slowly loosening as I walk toward my fallen quarry, returning Cypress’s rifle to the sling at my back and brushing debris from my coat as I go.
When I reach the deer, I check to make sure my shot was indeed well placed before I drag a tired hand across the back of my neck, relieved to have something to show for my efforts though it had taken me a while longer than I was hoping it would.
I glance at the sky through the bare treetops, calculating that it must be past midday, then I bring my fingers to my mouth to produce a high-pitched whistle. The new noise not quite enough to overtake the sound of Cypress’s deep cadence as it weaves its way back into my mind from a memory made just after dawn.
“You’re going to the west ridge this time?” Cypress had asked me, confirming what he already knew as he sat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, his mug of coffee in one hand and his unopened book in the other as he watched me tack up Helios.
I had nodded, lost in thought while I spooled a long length of rope around my saddle horn and took inventory of the contents in my saddle bags. Unease always swirls in my gut the closer I get to departure, even if I am confident that Cypress is every bit as capable of guiding any unfortunate intruder to their demise. Not to mention that Cora is getting handy enough with a pistol that she might just beat him to it.
Undeniably, the two of them can take care of themselves. But leaving still gnaws at me every time.
“About an hour’s ride, then…” Cypress had continued, his voice low and contemplative. “Should put you back by…”
“Supper at the latest.” That time my head had turned in Cypress’s direction to respond, and my frown broke at the sight of him.
In the early morning sun, Cypress’s sleep-mussed hair and the half-untucked shirt beneath his coat made him look akin to a self-satisfied barn cat who had found his ray of sun to lie in for the day. Perfectly at ease, with no trace of the claws that he concealed nor any of the concerns that might provoke him.
“You two will be all right?” I asked him anyway, absently starting to check my tack over once more to give myself a reason to linger.
“Of course,” Cypress replied, giving me a crooked half-smile as he set his things to the side and stood. “We will have no trouble finding some sort of diversion to pass the time.”
“I have no doubt,” I clipped back, shooting Cypress a knowing look from beneath the brim of my hat. “You always do.”
In response, Cypress’s smile had grown into a full grin, and we both glanced at the cabin where Cora was still fast asleep, Cypress turning back just in time to catch me taking a half-step toward the front door before I snapped myself out of it and stayed by my horse instead.
“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather I go?” Cypress offered, causing me to pause once more.
“I’m sure,” I reassured him, not wanting him to feel obligated to push himself. “You already did your turn a few days ago, and I probably should have gone yesterday. Our reserves are still lighter than I’d like them to be in case the weather turns. Especially if we get a good snow. Might need to go into town tomorrow.”
He hadn’t pushed me further on the topic, had even held up his hands in placation, though he might have given a much moreconvincing impression of surrender if he hadn’t also started to close the distance between us. His keen eyes visibly assessing with each step, he had not stopped his advance until he was near enough to brush his nose against the whiskers along my jaw.
A low, pleased sound started at the back of Cypress’s throat when I immediately angled my head to catch his mouth. Drinking in the strong taste of his morning coffee along with something sharper that was distinctly and maddeningly Cypress, an intoxicating combination that only grew more potent when I took the kiss deeper, not letting up until I was sure I’d never leave if I didn’t.
“Don’t fret. We will hardly make a move until you return,” Cypress told me a few minutes later, remaining close as I, at last, swung up into my saddle. His attempts at innocent sounding assurances coming nowhere near to concealing the glint in his eye when I had given him his usual direction to behave.
In truth, I never really expect him to follow that order. Not nearly delusional enough to believe he will, since it has never happened before.
From a spot deeper back in the woods, Helios trots over in answer to my whistled call, and I move toward his saddle once the prickly mustang draws up next to me, reaching to grab my—
My fingers find only air, then the leather of my saddle horn, and my eyes flick to the spot to confirm what I’ve already gathered.
“He…” I look around at the ground as if the item will turn up, the corresponding shake of my head more at myself for not catching it sooner than at Cypress for doing it at all. “He fuckin’ robbed me.”
In my defense, I had originally intended to spend my morning on less…lasciviousactivities.
I had actually planned to spend a while letting my thoughts run across the pages of my book or allowing my hands to fiddle with some of the things that needed fixing around the cabin. I had even tried to do so and still might try again…once I’ve had a chance to burn through some of my energy and apprehension through other means.
Aiden will be fine. I trust enough in him and in fate to believe that she wouldn’t be so cruel as to bring all three of us together only to separate us so soon. Still, that doesn’t mean his absence doesn’t tend to put me on edge…even more so than I already am these days.
I keep having those dreams at night. The ones where I’m back in that windowless room. Waiting again. Alone again. And I’m trying…I really am trying. Trying not to want to climb the walls the longer I sit in this cabin.