Free Crossroads by K. M. Liss Page A

all said fuck the hell off, you
asshole . Not having much choice, that's what I did. Probably
could have handled it a whole lot better though.
    I could have said sorry. Why the hell
hadn't I said sorry? I was such a dumb-ass jerk.
    I set off at a slower pace trying to calm
down, thinking about something else... anything else, but her. I
couldn't calm down while I was thinking about her, in any
sense.
    My mind wandered to work, as it always did.
Work was safe and a place I felt good. We were in the process of
moving the livestock to new pasture. Safer pasture, less accessible
to thieves. We had a fair bit of trouble with missing cattle.
Rustling was still very much alive, even in the twenty first
century. We'd lost fifteen Gelbvieh half breeds over the past year.
They were prime beef stock and worth a fair deal of cash. But the
strangest thing was the shootings. Two weeks ago, someone had shot
two of our Angus and left them to rot. A prankster? A crazy? A
grudge? We didn't know. Hopefully that was the last we'd see of
it.
    It took a few days to move the herd. I
enjoyed the roundup and transporting the cattle. It would mean a
night sleeping out, under the stars, to make sure they settled in
right. Being at one with nature appealed to me. As I gazed up at
the heavens, my eyes connecting the millions of tiny dots of light
in the darkness above me, I always felt an inner peace. Nowhere
else, did I feel this way - like I was being watched over by
something out there. I wasn't a believer in God, that was a plain
fact, but I felt right, and in good hands, close to my mom when I
was out there. She'd been very active on the ranch, being a
veterinary nurse, she helped out with the cattle and horses,
tending to any little ailments they had. Until she got sick. I
pushed those thoughts away ―t he memory of
her painfully thin face and scared eyes. It still upset me so bad.
Enough to bring tears forth. No woman as wonderful as my mom should
get sick and die at forty nine. There was something seriously wrong
with God letting it happen.
    I slipped along the silent, empty country
roads, my bike disturbing the peace of the night. A few rabbit and
deer shot across the road, stopping in my path, their bright eyes
shocked and terrified at my rapid approach. I smiled to myself. Goddamn stupid fucking animals . As usual, I did my best not to run them down, although it was tempting.
    It was a short journey, just ten minutes at
my usual kick-ass speed, before I was turning left at the open iron
gate, rising up the long and winding, tree-lined approach road, to
the center of Mill Creek Ranch. As I came into the stable yard, the
security light flicked on, glaringly bright as I passed through the
open hay-barn door, where we kept our bikes. The soft fragrance of
hay assailed my senses. I loved the smell of it. Hell, I loved the
taste of it. I was always chewing on the damn stuff out on the
ranch.
    A quick stock-take, of bikes present, told
me Kicker wasn't back yet. I didn't expect him to be. He was
getting involved with his girl. He regularly stayed at her place,
in town. I wouldn't see him till we started work tomorrow, I
guessed.
    Cherry was okay, and I suppose everyone
deserved a second chance. I didn't know her story and I wasn't
judgmental as a rule. Kicker seemed to see something in her, apart
from the whore label, and I'd go along with that, for his sake.
    I parked up at the end of the row, next to
Pete's red Honda, switched off the bike engine and pocketed the
key. I heard a rustle in the hay stacked up to my side... then
another. The whole place seemed to be rustling. Mice. The place was
fucking well swarming with them since the cat died. We needed
another cat. Maybe a few very hungry cats based on the amount of
rustling I could hear.
    I ran my hands over the smooth chrome curve
of the handlebars and sat there for a moment, not wanting to leave
the comfort zone of my much loved bike. I stared blindly at the
dirty wall in the semi darkness. A