Three Brothers

  Chance looked at me. “From talking about curses and forsaken love to impending death. Aren’t you just full of light, happy topics this morning?”

  I didn’t let myself smile back. “When we get through the abundance of dark and heavy topics, we can move on to the light and fluffy ones. Like what color I should paint my toenails.”

  Chance chuckled, knowing as well as I did that neither of us did light and casual conversations well. We’d both have rather enjoyed a rare moment of quiet than fill it with white noise. Quiet, profound, or giving each other a hard time—that had always been the tone of Chance’s and my relationship. I didn’t see now being the time for a change.

  “You’ve made your point,” he said.

  “I usually do.”

  When Chance rolled his head from side to side, I knew what he was about to say wasn’t good. The head roll was a classic sign that what was coming was hard to get out. “At Dad’s appointment last week, his prognosis went from a few more months to maybe a few more weeks.”

  My grip tightened on the reins.

  “It’s not looking good, Scout. That’s probably why I sounded the way I did in that message. We’d just left the appointment, and I’d gone from thinking I’d have my dad around for one last summer to finding out he’d be lucky to make it into July.”

  I wanted to grab his hand, but we were too far apart. “I’m sorry. I know all of you guys’s relationships have been . . . strained with John, but I know you’re the closest to him. This has to be the hardest on you.”

  Chance’s shoulder rose. “Dad loved us as much as he was capable. He just wasn’t capable of much. Mom’s passing made that even harder.”

  I blew out a breath. “Why didn’t you call me sooner? Why did you wait until he was almost gone?” I wasn’t blaming Chance—I was blaming myself for staying away for so long.

  “Because I knew you’d left for a reason and that you’d stayed away for a reason. I also knew that the moment you heard how much worse he was, you’d be on a plane. Just like you were.” Chance brought Honor to a stop and angled himself right in front of me. “I didn’t want to call you. I wanted you to stay away. I wanted you to be happy and to live your life and to forget about all of this.” He slid off his hat, not seeming to blink as he watched me. “But I also knew you’d want to know, that you’d want the chance to say good-bye. I made that call for you, but it was a call I wish I’d never felt obligated to make.”

  If we hadn’t been in the midst of a few thousand wild horses, I would have climbed off Dark Horse, pulled him off Honor, and given him the best hug I could conjure up. For the first time I could ever remember, Chance looked like he needed a hug more than I did. “I’ve told you before that you’re the best person in the world, right?”

  He tried to work up a smile, but it barely settled. “I don’t think the best person in the world would feel as conflicted as I do.”

  My head tipped to the side. “Conflicted about what?”

  He reined Honor back around, and our horses wandered farther through the valley. “Conflicted about something I shouldn’t be conflicted by.”

  “Aren’t you the forthcoming one today? I think you’ve been spending too much time around Conn.” I winked at him as he settled his hat back on his head.

  “I think you’re right. I love my brother, but I love him most in small doses. He’s even more lovable when he’s a couple states away.”

  I could have held back my laughter, but I didn’t. It had taken me a while to figure out that if I was going to hold something back, it wouldn’t be the good stuff. “I wasn’t sure who was more surprised to see who: me or him. I really thought that of the two of us, I’d return before Conn did.”

  “Well, he arrived a whole three hours before you, so it was close. Because, you know, playing his guitar on the beach and blowing his trust fund money was so much more important than being with his family while we say good-bye to our dad.”

  Chance’s sigh was almost silent, but I picked up on it. I wasn’t the only one who’d reached their fed-up level with Conn.

  “Living the dream,” I muttered. I hadn’t known what became of Conn after I left, but I could have guessed California—it was as un-Wyoming as a person could get.

  “More like too busy dreaming to live,” Chance replied before, all at once, something got the horses’ attention.

  Hundreds of heads whipped up, ears pricking forward. Chance and I looked around, but there was nothing our eyes or ears could detect.

  “So why did he come back? I know this is going to sound bad, but we both know it’s true . . . Conn isn’t the kind of son who wants to be holding his dad’s hand as he takes his last breath.”

  Even Dark Horse and Honor were acting like something was up. Their nostrils flared as they tested the air.

  “Dad’s lawyer called all of us to let us know he had something important to go over with us, which means it’s something likely related to the will, which means dollar signs, which means Conn’s attention is piqued.”

  I sighed with Chance, knowing he was right.

  “And I think he knew I’d be calling you, and you know how he feels about you,” Chance added. “I think that was all he needed to pack up his guitar and emergency booze supply and head back to his favorite place in the whole world.”

  “How does he feel about me?” I’d said it more to myself than to Chance, but I could tell he was working up a reply.

  “You’re like . . . I don’t know . . .” His head tipped back as he seemed to search for the right words. “You’re like fire to him. He’s fascinated by you. He can’t not look at you when you’re in front of him. You’re that light glowing in the darkness he focuses on to keep himself from getting swallowed up by it . . . but . . .” Chance’s breaths seemed to freeze in his chest.

  “But what?” I had to ask, even though I shouldn’t have.

  “But he knows if he gets close enough to touch you, he’ll get burned. He knows that if he gives all of himself to you, he’ll be consumed by the fire and reduced to ashes. He knows that when faced with fire, he’ll lose.” Chance steered Honor a bit away from me. “That’s why he keeps his distance—just not too much. He knows he can’t turn away without falling the rest of the way into the black abyss, and he knows he can’t move forward without being burned alive.”

  I felt as if the breath had been pulled from my lungs. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to remember those words for the rest of my life or forget them as soon as possible. “That was . . . beautiful. In a dark, haunting way. You’ve given this some thought.”

  Chance focused on the same spot on the horizon the herd was, squinting in concentration. “I’m just a good listener who has a photographic memory when it comes to certain things.”

  “I don’t understand.” I moved Dark Horse closer to Honor, trying to concentrate with Chance on had caught the herd’s attention, but I was focused on something else.

  “Those aren’t my words. Not my analogy.” He sat up higher in the saddle.

  “Whose then?”

  His shoulders stiffened. “Conn’s. Conn said that to me. He was the one who compared you to fire, the one who said he couldn’t walk away or move closer.”

  As was my pattern whenever I was presented with a vulnerable piece of Conn, I felt my heart thaw. I didn’t want it to thaw though, not where Conn was concerned. He’d encased my heart with too much ice for me to pretend anything I learned about him could melt it. “When did he tell you that?”

  “A couple years ago. I was visiting him in California for a weekend, and he was, of course, shitfaced. He was going on and on about you, and when I confronted him about why, he just couldn’t get over you or go after you. That was his answer.”

  “He was shitfaced. He didn’t mean it,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as Chance.

  “In my opinion, the only time Conn isn’t full of bullshit is when he’s shitfaced. It’s like the alcohol opens the tiny, solo window to his soul and lets
truth pour out. I’ve learned more about my brother when he’s been stumbling drunk than I’ve learned on a boys’ weekend camping trip. Tequila is his truth serum.”

  I urged Dark Horse into a trot to keep up with Honor. Chance seemed to have made out something in the distance.

  “Conn’s right about something for once at least.” When Chance looked over, waiting for my answer, I shrugged. “I will burn him alive if he tries messing with me again.”

  A smile broke across Chance’s face. “That’s the same thing I told him.”

  He urged Honor into a canter, and Dark Horse didn’t miss a beat. We’d passed the last of the herd a half mile back or so when I finally noticed what the horses must have been so focused on. It looked like a small puppy, but there were no dogs out this far. The only thing that far out in the wild that would resemble a puppy was . . .

  “It’s a wolf pup,” Chance said a moment before I realized it.

  “Alone? Out here in the daylight by itself?” No wonder the herd had been so tense. Wild horses had few natural predators, but that didn’t mean they liked the smell or sight of a wolf close by. “He’s too little to be out on his own.”

  Chance muttered a curse I rarely heard come from his mouth as he slowed Honor. “One of the hands brought in a female wolf a few days ago. She’d been trampled to death, probably when she got too close to the herd. They found her right around this valley too.”

  “The mother, you think?” I slowed Dark Horse to a walk, not wanting to scare the pup as we got closer.

  “There aren’t enough wolves roaming these parts anymore for it to be a coincidence that we found a female wolf close by where a lone pup is wandering.”

  “What are we going to do?” I stopped Dark Horse to study the little thing. It was smaller than I’d thought and weak. Wolves were apex predators, and the pup should have been bolting from two people approaching on horses, but it seemed barely able to hold itself up.

  “You’re the almost-vet here, Scout. I was kind of hoping you’d have the answer,” he said.

  “An almost-vet for large animals, not wild ones. I’m going to need a little team effort here, Chance.” I crawled off Dark Horse, who was visibly unsettled by being so close to something that smelled like danger. He’d probably never come in contact with a wolf, and it didn’t matter that this one might have weighed five pounds. Everything about a wolf—it’s sight, smell, howl—was hardwired into a horse.

  “Happy to help with the team effort thing, but mind filling me in on what you’re thinking?” Chance slid out of Honor’s saddle and took Dark Horse’s reins as I moved closer to the pup.

  “We should look for a den. Judging by how small he is, it has to be close.”

  “Why are we looking for the den? To put him back in it?”

  That Chance was so knowledgeable about ranch animals but hopelessly clueless when it came to any other creature almost made me smile, but I could see he was trying, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “He’s thin, almost emaciated. We put him back in the den, and he’ll die just as fast as if we left him out here. The mother must have been that female you found trampled. Either that or she died some other way, because mother wolves rarely just abandon their pups.”

  “So why are we checking for a den?” Chance stayed back with the horses while I moved closer to the pup.

  “To see if there are any others in it.”

  The pup couldn’t seem to focus, which meant he was probably dehydrated too.

  “And what will we do if there are more?”

  I patted the air back at him, trying to get him to lower his voice. The pup might not have been able to run away, but I could tell it was terrified.

  “Help them,” I answered quietly.

  “Help them? They’re wolves.”

  “They’re pups.”

  “Wolf pups, not golden retriever pups.” Chance thrust his arm in the wolf’s direction. “It’s not going to grow up to be a lap dog who’s happy with kibble and playing fetch with a ratty old tennis ball. They’re killers, Scout.”

  “I know that, Wikipedia. I’m a vet, for Christ’s sake.” When the pup yipped and howled as I moved closer, I stopped. I’d let it get used to me and my scent before I moved closer.

  “You’re almost a vet. Specializing in large animals, not wild ones.”

  I threw a quick glare back at Chance before kneeling. The pup was grayish-black and still had the haunting blue eyes of a young pup. It was clearly distressed by me being so close, but if I walked away, it wouldn’t make it through the day.

  “Why don’t you stop being a snarky comedian and go see if you can find that den?” I lifted my eyebrows at Chance and waited.

  After an exasperated sigh, Chance led the horses toward a rock outcropping, exactly where I would have headed if I was trying to locate a den. So he wasn’t entirely clueless when it came to animals other than the barnyard variety.

  After a few minutes, I sat in the grass. In a month, it would be so tall it would tower above me, but so early in June, it was barely up to my knees—or my shoulders when I was sitting. My sitting seemed to calm the pup considerably, and after another minute, its yelps of protest and calls for help diminished.

  I checked over my shoulder on Chance and the horses. He was to the outcropping, and he dropped the horses’ reins to let them graze as he started up it. I was so focused on watching Chance navigate the outcropping I almost didn’t notice something moving closer. The pup seemed as curious as it was distressed, taking hesitant steps in my direction. Every few steps, it staggered to the side or tumbled to its stomach, but it kept getting back up and moving closer.

  I’d never seen anything like it in my life, nor would I ever probably again, but that little wolf pup kept coming closer, stumbling toward me as if it knew I was its last chance. Wolves ran from people instinctively, yet that one forced itself closer. Its coat was muddy and matted, but I saw its shoulder bones poking through. At that age, pups needed to eat regularly—every few hours or so. Going three days plus without food had made the little one a skeleton with fur.

  When it was just out of reach, it stopped. It tried to stand, but it seemed to have used the last bit of its energy coming to me. The pup whined, a wild whimper, before appraising me with a nearly expectant expression. It seemed to say, “Hey, I made it this far. Your turn.”

  Reaching out slowly, I tested the pup to see what it would do when my hands came close. It might have been small, but I knew its needle-like teeth could still pierce me. The pup inspected my hands, his nose lifting toward them. No growl, no snarl, nothing indicated that the animal did not want me so close.

  I knew touching a baby animal was a big no-no as some mothers would come back and reject their young if they smelled human scent on them, but it was evident this pup’s mother was dead or had long abandoned it. So very slowly, I moved my hands closer until I could feel its fur. The pup flinched, but it didn’t lunge away or snap at my hands.

  “It’s okay, little one. No one’s going to hurt you,” I said in a calm, quiet voice. My fingers gripped its scruff, where its mother would have grabbed hold to move it. “I’m going to get you fixed up.”

  When I lifted it from the ground, the pup whimpered again, but it didn’t struggle . . . not that it had much energy left to put up a fight. Touching it and having it up close, I could tell that the pup was worse off than I’d guessed. Its skin was hanging loose from its frame, and its heartbeat was so faint I could barely detect it.

  Cradling it close, I tucked my jacket around it, keeping a firm hold of its scruff to keep it calm. Rising, I glanced at where Chance had stopped toward the top of the outcropping. When he kneeled and moved a few rocks away, I knew he’d found something. I headed in his direction, keeping a firm hold on the pup that had started to quiver inside my jacket. The horses took a break from their grazing to watch me with cautious eyes, no doubt smelling the danger on me.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked, climbi
ng toward Chance.

  “Yeah,” he replied, kneeling beside what looked to be a den, his hat clutched in his hands. “I found something.”

  I could smell the den before I could see it. I shouldn’t have gone any closer when I’d first caught the scent of something rotting, but my feet kept moving me forward. When I came up behind Chance, I came to a stop. Staggered around the edges of the den were three other wolf pups, all dead. The only difference between those three and the one I was cradling was that the one whimpering in my jacket had a heartbeat. A faint one, and who knew how much longer it would keep going.

  “Poor things.” A tear ran down my cheek. I’d long ago accepted the reality of death for all things, and going through vet school had trained me to offer the release of it when old age or illness necessitated it, but those little things had barely started their lives before they’d ended.

  “How did they die?” Chance’s back was to me, but from his tone, I would have guessed he was almost as sad as I was.

  “They starved.” I didn’t have to perform an autopsy to confirm their cause of death. The one in my arms was as emaciated as they were.

  “What about the other one?” Chance slid his leather gloves back on and carefully moved the dead pups’ bodies deeper inside the den before he piled large boulders at the entrance.

  “You mean, this other one?” I opened my jacket just enough for Chance to peek inside.

  When he did, his eyes went wide. “What are you doing with a wolf in your coat, Scout?” Chance thrust one hand in my direction, continuing to stack boulders at the den’s entrance with his other.

  “I’m going to save it, that’s what I’m doing with a wolf in my coat.”

  “From the looks of it, there’s not much left to save. It won’t survive the ride back to the ranch. Why don’t you leave it here so that when it goes, it can be in a familiar place and not stuffed inside some human’s coat, probably freaking out? Let it die in peace instead of fear.” Chance’s breathing grew labored as he stacked rock after rock.