Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(34)

Blizzard gave a start, which made Wes drop the reins. Something black-and-white burst out from the underbrush, and before Wes could properly catalogue the skunk—or panic about it—Blizzard bolted.

Wes screamed and hunched down, gripping the saddle pommel in bloodless fists, unable to grab the reins while holding onto the galloping horse for dear life.

*

Mack had been so determined to ignore how gorgeous Wes looked astride Blizzard this morning that he temporarily lost track of the sassy blond. He rose up in his stirrups, sure the guy had simply wandered away. Wes wasn’t stupid enough to go beyond eyesight of the group.

“Wes?” Sophie called out. “Where’d you go, bro?”

That got everyone’s collective attention on the bride-to-be and her missing Best Person. Mack met Reyes’s curious gaze and shrugged. “I’ll take a look around,” Mack said. “Everyone hang here, I’m sure he’s just down the trail.”

He’d better be.

“Better hope a mountain lion doesn’t get him,” Liam said.

Conrad rounded on the guy, his face thunderous, and Liam backed off.

Mack got one of the shotguns from the wagon, just in case, and then took a wide trot back down the trail. Didn’t see his missing city slicker, so he looped away from the trail, wandering in a southern arc, keeping his eyes open for a flash of white. West of where he’d left the group, Mack spotted a disturbance on the ground that could have been from a spooked horse. Mack wasn’t a trained tracker, and if Blizzard had taken off, he needed help finding her.

He unhooked his walkie-talkie from his belt. “Judson, you copy? Got a lost sheep.”

The frequency crackled, and then, “I’m here. Which one?”

“Blizzard. Wandered off at the northernmost trail point.”

“Give me a minute.”

“Copy.”

Three years ago, after a pain in the ass guest decided that because they were a trained horse rider, they could wander off the trail and explore on their own, the ranch had begun investing in Tags. They were small GPS instruments that could be attached to saddles and tracked via computer. Over the years, they’d managed to purchase the twenty they needed to cover every potential guest, and each horse had its own specific Tag.

All Judson had to do was get on the computer, bring up the program, and give him directions on how to find Wes and Blizzard. Mack trusted Blizzard to eventually find her way home, but he didn’t trust Wes.

“Mack, copy?” Judson asked.

Mack raised his walkie. “Copy. Where’s my wanderer?”

“Looks about a mile west of the trail, getting near the back forty.”

“A mile?” Damn, something must have startled Blizzard good for her to run that far. She wasn’t usually a skittish horse.

“Yeah. Looks like you’re gonna cross the stream again, and then there’s a big cluster of trees and brush in a valley.”

“Got it.”

“You might get out of range of the walkie that far out, so be careful, son.”

“Always am.”

Mack hooked the walkie back onto his belt. Reyes had probably heard the whole thing from his end, and Mack trusted him to wrangle the other guests, while Mack went in search of his missing rider. He gave Tude a squeeze with his heels, sending him from a canter to a gallop, watching the location of the mountain peak as he rode.

This part of the land was mostly unexplored and far beyond where they usually brought guests. Knowing how close Wes had gotten to the unknown of the back forty worried him more than he’d ever admit out loud. And also made him curious. It would give Mack his first glimpse of the parcel of land that some developer seemed interested in. As much as Mack agreed with Arthur’s reasons for not selling, the ranch and the dying town of Garrett could definitely use a big influx of cash.

After galloping for about a mile or so, he slowed Tude down to a canter, eyes wide for any sign of Blizzard and Wes. He didn’t want to start shouting the guy’s name and attract unwanted wildlife, and the shotgun was for safety, not announcing his presence. Once they crossed the stream as Judson said, Mack eased Tude back to a trot.

The land had flattened out a bit in the new valley, with a craggy mountain rising up in the distance, maybe half a mile away. Something else rose up on the land, not exactly the clusters of trees that Judson mentioned. Sure, there were some trees, most of them burst by lightning and dead, but they weren’t what made Mack sit up straighter.

Buildings. Old, faded wooden buildings dotted the landscape, like the remnants of an old movie set.

Or an old mining town.

And farther in the distance, a flash of white caught his attention. Mack nudged Tude faster, Blizzard’s familiar shape coming into sharper focus. A horse without a rider, which sent a bolt of alarm through Mack. Had she thrown Wes somewhere along the way? Was he out in the wilderness somewhere, unconscious and hurt? Guests signed waivers about injuries, but Mack would take it pretty damned personally if Wes got hurt on his watch.

He rode toward Blizzard, who was tied to a broken fence post. She nickered as he approached. He stared at her reins.

Tied up.

“Wes Bentley?” Mack called. His voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the various buildings in different states of disrepair. “Wes!”

“Hey!”

Mack nearly jerked the reins. Wes had stepped out onto the porch of one of the dilapidated buildings and waved at Mack.