Ape Man by Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer

Author:Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer [Sawyer, Sarah Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RockHaven Publishing

CHAPTER 14

There was never a duller Saturday night in the history of ranch work.

But Steve couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for that as he sat slouched at the round card table in the bunkhouse. He stared at his cards that made no more sense than Freddy’s death. He thumbed one corner of his five-card hand, thinking about a lot of things; thinking about nothing.

Lucky rapped his knuckles on the table across from Steve. Steve eyed his friend over the top of his cards.

Lucky drawled, “If I have to ask you one more time if you’re in or folding, I’m dealing you out of the next hand.”

Steve sighed and glanced at his cards—a pair of eights and a pair of threes. He tossed three matchsticks to the center of the table.

“I’ll call you.”

Lucky sighed, agitated. None of the boys were in a joking mood tonight.

“Henderson is the one you’re calling, not me, you oaf.”

Steve shifted, pushing himself up a little and preparing to lay his cards on the table. “You, Henderson, that newspaper reporter; what difference does it make?”

Before he could lay his cards out, a distant shout echoed from outside, and Steve was sure he recognized the voice. He took a quick glance around the bunkhouse, remembering he was temporary foreman.

“Where’s Jimmy?”

A hand lounging on the cot below Jimmy’s spoke up. “He said he was going to talk to the horses, or something. You know how he is. Makes a good head wrangler. No offense, Steve.”

Piercing whinnies came from the corral down and across from the bunkhouse. It sounded like the horses were in a terrible tizzy.

Steve flung his cards to the table. “No one’s supposed to be alone!”

He shoved his chair back, toppling it, and darted for the door, Lucky behind him.

Steve threw open the door and called back to the other hands, “No one by themselves, you hear?”

He stumbled onto the porch of the bunkhouse, his gaze swiveling and landing on the corral. In the dark, Steve couldn’t make out much, but he could see the gate, wide open, and horses charging through.

He ran hard for the corral, but too late to stop any of them from fleeing. He shouted at the boys coming out of the bunkhouse, “That’s half the remuda! Saddle up and get them rounded up!”

Out of breath, Steve doubled over at the corral gate, resting his hands on his knees. Lucky gasped for air beside him. Then Lucky gripped Steve’s arm.

“Steve.”

Lucky sounded like he was strangling on his own tongue.

Still doubled over, Steve looked sideways into the corral. Laying in the middle of it, face down, was Jimmy.

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