When Roses Collide

Chapter Two

"Boss!! Would you look at that!" Travis's musings over his nonexistent love life was rudely interrupted by Brady's excited shout. Decker, his buckskin gelding, pranced uneasily, snorting and pawing the ground. He quickly snatched up the reins he had let relax in his hand and patted Decker's muscled shoulder while murmuring calming words to ease the big brute.

He turned to see what was causing Brady to bounce up and down his saddle. Just on the top of the hill they were climbing, was the most magnificent piece of horseflesh he'd ever seen. A full black stud stood there, with a long tail and mane bellowing gently in the breeze like a king overlooking his kingdom. He must have been 16 hands easy and was built like a Sherman tank.

"Jeezus, he looks like one of those scenes out of a fucking fairytale," Brady said in utter awe. His eyes were as round as saucers and Travis imagined if he looked close enough, he would probably see a little trace of drool. Like himself, Brady possessed an excellent eye for horseflesh and this fellow had plenty of quality flesh to contemplate. "Where do you reckon he came from? I can't see a brand from here." Brady squinted his eyes trying to get a closer look. "Holy hell, could he be from Rafferty's place?"

Travis snorted. "I highly doubt it. The Diamond has never kept anything that fine in its barns. I will circle to the left, you circle to the right and we'll see if we can get close enough to the big fella to identify a brand." As if the large animal heard his plans, he raised his elegant head, nickered softly and then let out a long drawn out whinny before taking off at a gallop the opposite way. His tail flagging out behind him as he crested over the top.

The cowboys glanced at each other with similar grins plastered on their faces. Kicking their mounts into action, they gave chase and pursued him up and over hills, all the way to the very back forty of the DR. As their quarry flew up the last remaining hill and disappeared over the other side, Travis singled Brady to rein in.

"Why are we stopping?" With the thrill of the chase still coursing through Brady's blood, he gave him an exasperated look.  "Feeling tired old man?" he teased. "Me and Bartender here can go after him," he bragged as he stroked the sorrel's mane. The geldings coat gleamed in the late morning sun like a freshly minted copper penny.

"Shush...and listen." Both cowboys listened as the music they heard earlier pulsed around them. It was so loud, it nearly vibrated Travis off his horse.

"Is that...is that Trace Adkins? What the hell is going on Trav?" Brady mused out loud, "First, some of our cows turn up missing. Then we hear music and then we don't and now we do. Then the most amazing horse I've ever laid eyes on turns up and disappears. Now it sounds like a country concert is in full swing. It's like a freaking episode of the Twilight Zone around here!" Brady nervously squirmed in his saddle.

"It's not the Twilight Zone, more like an episode of COPS. That music is coming from Jake Stewart's place, which means it's not supernatural, but breaking and entering," Travis growled.

"What do we do? Go back and get the sheriff?"

He shook his head. "There's no time. If it's a group of rustlers, they'd be long gone before we can get back." Travis grabbed his pistol out of the leather holster which was slung over the saddle horn and checked the clip. He had enough ammo to hold off for a little while. "How many rounds do you have in your rifle?" he asked while he checked his cell phone for a single. Damn, not one fucking bar!

"I have about 20, enough to do some damage." Neither cowboy felt like vigilantes, but being armed remained a way of life on a ranch. It was necessity against, coyotes, mountain lions, grizzlies and other predators that can hunt and eat a rancher right out of business. Cows and calves are defenseless, especially during birthing season. The smell of afterbirth attracts predators in droves. Unfortunately, they also needed to be armed for their own stock.