Free Dark Moon Crossing by Sylvia Nobel Page A

penetrate my foggy brain. “Sheeeeit!” I floored the
    brakes and skidded to a stop mere inches from a gigantic black bull. Shaking
    and gasping for breath, three things occurred to me in quick succession. I had
    not hit him, I was not hurt, and the bull hadn’t budged one single inch.
    Instead of fleeing in terror, he just stood there, chewing, flicking his tail,
    and staring straight at me with a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. This imposing
    beast bore no resemblance to the gentle doe-eyed cows that my brothers and I
    had petted on visits to dairy farms when we were kids. I shuddered to think of
    what would have happened had I plowed into him. I would have been dead meat.
    My sudden stop had killed the engine, so I turned the key, hoping the
    noise would scare him. It didn’t. Should I risk getting out to try and shoo
    him away?‌ I surveyed the sharpness of his horns and decided that would be a
    dumb move. No way was I a match for what looked to be three thousand pounds of
    beef on the hoof. When I laid on the horn, he lowered his head and pawed the
    ground as if in challenge. Now what?‌ There was not quite enough room to drive
    around him without hitting the road sign, so I shouted out the window, “Okay,
    big guy, move it. Now!”
    His response to my demand was to shake his head and snort a
    gross-looking gob of bull snot onto my windshield. “Jesus!” Apparently pleased
    by his performance, the bothersome bovine turned his rump towards me and
    decided to treat me to more of his bodily functions by depositing an enormous
    pile of dung in the road. Some of it dropped onto my hood and front bumper.
    He turned back to me, nostrils flaring, and I swear he wore a look of smug
    triumph on his broad face. I moaned in disgust, rammed the car in reverse and
    backed to the top of the rise, hoping that I would seem less of a threat.
    I looked in all directions. The range fence on either side of the road
    appeared to be intact, so where had he come from?‌ In the distance I could see
    a ranch house and a few outbuildings, but no other signs of life. No people,
    no cars—nothing but a few red-tailed hawks gliding in the steady wind. Surely
    by now, Lupe had noticed that I was no longer behind her, so why hadn’t she
    doubled back?‌
    Wait, I had my cell phone! I grabbed it, then paused. Who was I going
    to call?‌ Tally?‌ And tell him what—that I was being held hostage in the middle
    of nowhere by a cantankerous bull?‌ He would laugh himself sick. But, the more
    I thought about it, the less humorous the situation became. What if another
    driver happened upon him at night?‌ Perhaps the sheriff’s office could notify
    the rancher or animal control?‌ I dialed information but got dead air. The ‘no
    service’ notice blinked at me again. “Stupid, useless phone,” I muttered,
    stuffing it back into my purse.
    There was nothing to do but wait, so I rolled the window down all the
    way and stared out at the mountain-rimmed valley. I really had nothing to
    complain about. Who could ask for a more beautiful setting?‌ It was blissfully
    quiet, and as the cooling wind fluffed my hair and whispered through the tall
    desert grasses, I filled my lungs with the fragrant scent. I sat there for at
    least ten minutes until the bull grew bored with me and leisurely wandered into
    the brush. All right! I shoved the car into gear and stepped on it, hoping to
    catch up with Lupe. I’d only gone a mile or so when I saw two vehicles ahead
    pulled over to the side of the road. One of them was hers. When I got closer,
    shock zapped my heart. Lupe was leaning against the side of her car, arms
    folded tightly, talking to a tall, burly man clad in a khaki shirt and slacks.
    Uh-oh. The large letters on the side of the white and green vehicle parked
    behind hers proclaimed U.S. Border Patrol. All four of her car doors were
    open, as well as the trunk. Her bag was on the ground beside her, the contents
    strewn about.
    I mouthed a