Whirlwind - Janet Dailey Page 0,25

the icy chill that trickled down her throat.

“Should I try to phone Lexie?” Callie asked. “She’d want to know about this.”

“No. Lexie doesn’t need the distraction.”

“She promised to let you know when they made it to Albuquerque. You could tell her then.”

“It’ll only worry her,” Tess said. “We can tell her what happened when she gets home.” Closing her eyes, Tess leaned back in the chair, sipping the cold beer and taking slow, deep breaths. When she opened her eyes again, she could see the truck and trailer crawling down the steep, hairpin road toward the ranch.

Minutes later, the rig rolled into the yard and stopped by the paddock. As Ruben and Pedro climbed out of the cab, Tess got up and strode out to meet them.

Ruben was not one to show emotion. But she could tell he was proud of her. Gratitude and admiration shone in his dark eyes as he spoke. “After we check the rig and get another spare tire out of the shed, we’ll be loading more bulls. You can let us know which ones to take. But first, there’s something you need to see.”

He led her around to the rear of the trailer and opened one of the double doors. The ruined tire lay where it had been tossed, half detached from the bent and useless steel rim.

“Here’s where the tire blew.” Ruben pointed to direct her gaze. “Take a close look.”

The tire was fairly new—Tess would never transport her precious bulls on unsafe tires. But the blowout hole wasn’t in the tread, where it would be if the tire had run over something sharp. It was in the sidewall.

“See it?” Ruben asked. “Look close.”

“I see it.” Tess ran a cautious finger along the edge of the break. The side of the tire had been cut almost through, with a razor blade or a very sharp knife, leaving a layer thin enough to burst under pressure.

The chill that crept over Tess was like a skeletal hand clutching at her heart. Somebody had done this—somebody with access to the truck and the ranch, somebody who could come and go without being seen or heard, even by the dogs. Questions flocked into her mind, like the black-winged vultures circling above the arroyo.

Who was behind this?

Where would they strike next?

How far would they go?

And what would it take to stop them?

CHAPTER FIVE

AT THE FAIRGROUNDS IN ALBUQUERQUE, LEXIE UNLOADED WHIRLWIND from the trailer, signed him in, and saw him settled, with water and food, in his space amid the complex of pens and chutes.

Before leaving him, she reached between the rails and scratched a special spot behind his ear. Whirlwind closed his eyes, soothed by her touch. Lexie had been there for his birth and watched him grow into a promising young bull. He’d always been her favorite; and now that he was moving into the big league of buckers, it seemed right that she should be here to cheer him on.

As Tess often reminded her, Whirlwind wasn’t a pet. He was a powerful brute, bred for a singular purpose—to buck in the arena and, if he proved good enough, to pass on his genes to his future sons and daughters. But for all that, he held a place in Lexie’s heart.

As she stepped back from the pen, he snorted and shook his blunted horns. “Don’t be nervous, big guy,” she murmured. “You’ll be safe here tonight. And tomorrow you’ll do us all proud.”

Walking back through the complex to move and park the rig, Lexie took in her surroundings. There were at least twenty bulls in the maze of pens and chutes, with more still coming in. Every effort had been made to keep them safe and comfortable. The floors were non-slip rubber, covered with clean sawdust. Bins held food and water. An overhead cover protected the bulls from the sun and weather. Security cameras monitored every inch of space.

And the bulls—they were majestic, all of them in prime condition. They paid Lexie scant attention as she walked past their pens—some dozing or eating, some blowing snot and passing noisy gas, or dropping piles of steaming manure.

Being here, surrounded and handled by people, was routine for these pampered giants. For the most part, they took it calmly, until their turn in the bucking chute, when the rider settled into place and the gate swung open. Then they became eight-second rock stars.

They were world-class, the best of the best, some worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. How would Whirlwind do