Beyond the Green

39

Nolan was in the kitchen when I came out and I smelled the aroma of coffee and eggs. He turned as I came in, pulling my hair back and pinning it up.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yes, fine thank you."

I wasn't sure that he believed me, but he said nothing as I helped him finish breakfast. I had the feeling he knew what I had seen in the mirror. After we had eaten, he wiped his mouth and stood up.

"Goin' to scout what's left of the mustangs today, thought you'd like to come along."

"Yes!" The dishes could wait and I followed him to the front door.

Slipping into my moccasins, I realized I'd neglected to get shoes or boots in Kelton. Mentally shrugging I walked with Nolan out the corral, watching as he caught and saddled the dun. Helping me with the chestnut, his features were blank.

"You wanna ride Buck instead?"

Though I had hated Gaines, I had nothing against his horse. My smile was genuine.

"No, I'll be fine with this big boy." As I patted the gelding's neck he tossed his head, eager to be off.

"Okay." Nolan gave me a boost into the saddle and then swung up on the dun, pointing toward the mountains. "We'll start with Mahogany Peaks, and then swing west toward Goose Creek. Keepin' southwest we'll reach Meadow Creek Butte then Dry Canyon Mountain. We can scout the northern edge of the Grouse Creek on the way back. That'll likely be all we'll have time for today."

"That sounds like a lot of ground to cover. Are you sure we can do it on our own?" Though understanding every word he'd used, I'd no idea what my husband just said. His grin was amused.

"We'll make out fine."

"Where is Saoirse's herd located?"

"Her family likes to stay among Red Butte peaks. If she's out there, we'll find her tomorrow."

"What if she's not, Nolan?" there must have been a tremor in my voice because my husband looked at me, a shadow of emotion in his eyes. His shoulders were a little stiff.

"One mountain at a time, Molly, come on."

The sun burned hot on our shoulders as we crossed from the shaded area of Twin Peaks to the open sun of Deadline ridge. Nolan had become increasingly quiet. Wrath radiated from him as we continued our count. Though I did not know the number of horses he was expecting to find, what we did count was obviously far less.

Riding for long miles, we climbed mountain ridges, dipped into shaded valleys, wound along basins, and splashed through creeks. Steep mesas often towered over us on one side, the rock and dirt hot and still in the afternoon sun. Nolan would stop every now and then, looking in the dust and call out a number for me to tally. Sometimes we would even see the mustangs, little groups of them scattered like feathers on the wind. When we reached the cool water of Meadow Creek, I swung off the chestnut, legs aching. I smiled as he headed right for the water.

Kneeling at the creek's edge I splashed it across the back of my neck, then on my face. Nolan stood in the shade of a meager looking tree, watching. When I smiled at him, I got the barest twitch of his lips in response.

"Are you very angry?"

"Let's just say, it's a good thing we're the only ones out here right now." It was a dark threat that raised the skin on my arms. He was furious. Standing, I kept my features calm.

"Let's eat lunch."

After sandwiches and cool water, we pressed on, moving south toward Grouse Creek. There was only one sign of horses in the area. Nolan called the number out to me, a vengeful curse of his lips. I knew better than to say anything but watched in silent sympathy as my husband lost his temper.