CHAPTER 6
My blood curdled. "If the horses hadn't balked this afternoon, we'd have passed within feet of it."
"When I look in the morning, maybe he'll be long gone."
Carlos said, "Heard a puma back in New Mexico that screamed just like this one. The old men, the ones who know everything, said it wasn't normal because mostly pumas are quiet. If one screams, there's a reason.”
"A deranged cougar? Is that what we have?"
"Maybe. Or hungry. Or injured. Who knows?"
In the next few minutes, they pooled their meager knowledge and made guesses as to why this cat was different. Why it was here. "It could have been chased from its usual range by another cat."
"Or gone without eating for a long time."
"Or is old or injured and looking for easy prey."
"That wasn't the cry of an old animal. It's in its prime."
"And it wants to eat the horses."
Silence fell. Neither one knew for sure. Max rose. "We'll know more tomorrow."
In a small voice, I said what was uppermost in my mind. "We must keep the horses safe.”
Standing, Max was a black shadow against the silver moonlight. Without seeming to move he was beside me, a dark bulk against the danger lurking beyond the fence. He'd been in the Rangers, he knew about guns and danger and how to deal with it. I was suddenly very glad Carlos had hired him. I wasn't sure I'd have done the same if I'd been around when he came looking for work. I definitely wouldn't have.
Carlos leaned back against the swing, weariness in every line of his body as Max perused him without appearing to do so, until our new employee said, "Go to bed, Carlos. I'll take care of your horses tonight."
With a last look towards the stable and holding onto the railing with both hands to steady himself, Carlos pulled himself up the stairs to his room while I brought blankets and pillows from the closet where they were kept for those all-nighters horse people seem to experience all too often. In the barn, after locking the door, I spread them over straw bales and Max and I settled in for the night.
Max leaned close. “You mentioned a rifle. Or a shotgun? Pistol? Something. I'll need it.”
No need to ask if he knew how to use a gun. He did. “We have everything you might need. In a gun case in the office. Tell me what you want and I’ll get it.”
“A shotgun works best at night." There was experience in his voice. "More chance of hitting a moving target that could be little more than a blur. It might not kill a really big cat if it's not a direct hit, but it'll slow it down. But I'd like the rifle too, in order to finish it off.”
"Aren't cougars a protected species?"
"You have the right to protect the horses."
"I'll get the guns."
"I'll watch the open door while you're gone."
"No need. The buildings are all connected."
I followed the halls through the stable, then through a small connecting building, and then to the office, where I retrieved a shotgun and a rifle from the locked gun cabinet, then ammunition from the drawer underneath. When I brought them to Max, along with enough ammunition to outfit a small army, he looked at the thirty-ought-six and whistled. "That's a nice rifle." He looked closer. "That's a really top quality scope and it's on a top-of-the-line rifle." There was a question in his voice.
"My dad likes to shoot. He has a number of guns."
"And you take after your dad?"
"He gave me these when I took this job."
"Because the stable is isolated." He ran a hand lovingly along the thirty-ought-six. "Good man. I don't have to ask if it's accurate."
"It is."
He leaned the two weapons against the wall, the shotgun closest to him, the rifle a few inches farther away. I then went to the tiny kitchenette in the stable that consisted of a sink and a cupboard that held everything needed to make coffee, another staple for all-nighters. “How do you like your coffee?”
“Tonight? Black and with as much caffeine as possible.”
I doubled the amount of grounds and soon was cautiously sipping the strongest coffee I’d ever had as Max downed his without blinking. The caffeine packed a wallop guaranteed to keep me alert for hours.
Then we settled in to wait for the cougar to make its move. But nothing happened. We sat and sat and sat and nothing happened. The night was just another sleepy, warm summer night with silver moonlight shining through the windows and into every corner and crevice and turning them into a kind of fairyland. I watched the moon cross the small piece of sky visible through a window and, against my wishes, I let myself sink into a lethargy close to contentment that I knew was only possible because of the man beside me. A man who could and would shoot a cougar if it came close. Who would protect the horses? And, if necessary, me?
How did I know he'd protect me? I didn't know how I knew. But I had no doubt he'd do whatever he could to keep me safe.
As I leaned back and examined the moonlight in detail, I decided that Maxwell Abrams and the guns were a bulwark of safety against an otherwise dangerous night that I'd have had to deal with by myself or with the help of an elderly, injured man if he hadn't happened along looking for a job.
Maxwell Abrams was an unexpected savior. A warrior.
Then Max did something unexpected. He opened the stable door. "Shouldn't it be closed and locked? To keep the cougar out?"
"I changed my mind. Got a different idea. I'm here and I'm ready. If the door is open, it might just attack and if it does it'll come right through that door. If that happens, I'll be waiting."
Quiet words spoken with the surety that they could be backed up with the kind of action that would end the threat of the cougar and keep the stable and all its occupants safe. But even as those words assured me that Max could handle things, they reminded me of how truly dangerous the cougar was and, with that thought, the pool of safety his presence had created and that had spread to include the entire stable, the horses and the yard outside, evaporated.
He noticed. "Go to sleep, boss lady." His voice was a monotone intended to put me to sleep. I resented his taking care of me like he took care of Carlos. But, unable to help myself, I closed my eyes as he continued talking. "I'm probably wrong about the cat attacking. Now I think about it, I seriously doubt that it will come tonight. It's too new to the area, it'll want to check things out before it makes its move. I'll keep the door open so it'll get used to seeing it open and to smelling the horses inside. So it'll be lulled into coming inside. But I doubt anything will happen tonight. So, like I said before, go to sleep boss lady."
I wondered whether I should say something. Criticize his choice of words. Boss lady? Who did he think he was? But that might chase him away and we needed him and how did I know what would constitute a good boss response? So I said nothing and lay back and closed my eyes, knowing there was no way on earth I'd sleep.
But his voice got to me as he kept talking about nothing in particular. It became a hypnotic, honey-smooth liquid spiraling through my body which I suspected was exactly what he intended. Even though I'd not known how tired I was from the events of the day, from the strain, even though I didn't know I needed sleep somehow, he knew and he was putting me to sleep.
What kind of life had he lived to know such things and know them so precisely? He knew about danger and he promised it wouldn't arrive tonight. Which meant it wouldn't. It wouldn't dare.
So, lulled by his voice and the web of safety his presence wove, but mostly because I was unable to stop myself, I lapsed into a state of half sleep in which the larger rectangle of silver that was the open doorway morphed into a looking glass and, as exhaustion from the day's events took over and sleep called, I became Alice stepping through the glass into Wonderland.
As I considered the Wonderland beyond the door, asleep and yet awake enough to know that this wasn't real, I realized that the edges of the moon now touched the tops of the
black night trees on the opposite side of the clearing. That woke me up fast and made me sit up straight. In order for it to be so far from its position when I first lay back and listened to Max's voice, hours must have passed. I couldn't remember falling off but judging from the position of the moon and the pre-dawn darkness that was beginning to envelope the world as it slid behind the trees, morning wasn't far off. And, as I watched, it disappeared and pure darkness took over the world.
I rubbed my eyes. "You should have waked me. I could take my turn."
"You were sleeping so nicely I didn't have the heart. Besides, I like the night. It's peaceful, a time for reflection."
I pushed aside the fog of sleep and tried to come up with a response, something that would show how thankful I was for his help while making it clear that even though I happened to fall asleep, I could normally hold up my end of a bargain and could be counted on if anything happened. Which I sincerely hoped it wouldn't because the nasty cat that wanted to eat my horses would be gone from the area, thus making action unnecessary.
I decided to tell Max that. But before I could open my mouth, the silence was shattered and the cougar screamed again.