Excerpt of One Brave Cowboy by Kathleen Eagle

The driver of the black pickup was himself driven, fixed on
the hulking two-story white house at the end of the road. It
was an old house in need of a coat of paint with a brand
new, freshly painted sign affixed to the porch railing.

Office
Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary It was the kind of incongruence that automatically drew his eye and raised the hackles he'd been working hard to tame. He was back in the States, for God's sake. South Dakota. Land of the granite chiefs and home of the original braves. Just because something was a little off in a place that seemed too quiet didn't mean Cougar needed to crouch and prepare to pounce. He was there on a tip from a fellow soldier. About the only people he trusted these days were guys he'd served with, and Sergeant Mary Tutan was one of the most standup "guys" he knew. She couldn't pull rank on him anymore, but she'd tracked him down, got him on the phone and talked like she could. Get your ass in gear, soldier! Go check out the wild horse training competition my friend Sally Drexler is running. It's just what the VA docs ordered. She'd corrected herself—Sally Night Horse—and explained that Sally had married an Indian guy. Did he know Hank Night Horse? How about Logan Wolf Track?

As if Indian country was that damn small.

Cougar wasn't interested in the sergeant's social life, but the mention of horses got his attention. Training competition and cash prize sounded pretty attractive, too. He'd been away from horses too long. The one he could see loping across the pasture a good half mile away made him smile. Nice bay with a big spotted colt in tow. He could almost smell their earthy sweat on the hot South Dakota wind blowing through the pickup cab.

His nose welcomed horse sweat, buffalo grass and the clay
dust kicked up by the oversize tires on his "tricked out"
ride, compliments of his brother, Eddie. He could have done
without the tires. Could have done without any of the
surprises he'd come home to, but he didn't want to do
without his brother, and Eddie would have pouted
indefinitely if Cougar had said anything about how many
miles his brother had racked up on the vehicle in Cougar's
absence.

The house looked pretty quiet for the "headquarters" of what
was billed as the biggest privately maintained wild animal
reserve in the Dakotas. Cougar didn't care how big it was as
long as it was legitimate. He'd been down too many dead-end
roads lately. The end of this one seemed pretty dead as far
as human activity was concerned, but one by one the horses
were silently materializing, rising from the ebb and flow of
tall grass. They kept their distance, but they were
watchful, aware of everything that moved.

As was Cougar. His instinct for self-preservation wasn't
quite as sharp as the horses', but it surpassed that of any
man, woman or...

...child.

Cougar hit the brake. He saw nothing, heard nothing, but
eyes and ears were limited. Cougar knew things. Men and
women were on their own, but kids were like foals. Always
vulnerable. They gave off signals, and Cougar was a
gut-level receptor. Which was a damn good thing. If it
hadn't been for his gut, he would have done nothing.

And if it hadn't been for the red baseball cap, he would
have thought he was going crazy again, and he might have
slid his boot back over the accelerator. But the red cap
saved both kid and driver.

And the goat.

Cougar's pulse pounded behind his staring eyeballs. The goat
took off, and a small hand stretched out, barely visible
beyond a desert camo armored fender.

Don't stop for anything, sergeant. That kid's coming for us. You slow down, he takes us out. Do. Not. Stop.

Cougar closed his eyes, took a breath, shifted into reverse
as he took a look back, gunned the engine, and nearly
jackknifed his trailer. When he turned, there was no goat.
He saw a light-haired kid in blue jeans, stretched out on
his belly. He saw the front end of his black pickup. He saw
a red and white barn, sparsely graveled road and South
Dakota sod. He secured the pickup and threw the door open
simultaneously. His boots hit the ground just as the kid
pushed himself up on hands and knees. He looked up at
Cougar, eyes filled with terror, but no tears.

And he was up. Thank you, Jesus.

Cougar's shadow fell across the boy like a blanket dropped
from a top bunk. His own knees wouldn't bend. "You okay?"

The boy stared at him.

"I didn't see you," Cougar said, willing the boy to stand on his own, to be able to get up all the way. "Are you hurt?"

The boy stretched out his arm, pointed across the road and
smiled. Cougar swung his head around and saw a gray cat.

"Was that it?" He looked down at the boy. "A damn cat? For a
second I thought I'd..." His legs went jittery on him, and
his knee cracked as he squatted, butt to boot heels.
"Jesus," he whispered as he braced his elbow on his knees
and dropped his head into his hand. His heart was battering
his ribs. He couldn't bring himself to look the kid in the
eye quite yet. Might scare him worse. Might scare them both
worse.

A small hand lit like a little bird on his shoulder. He
twitched beneath it, but he held himself together. He saw
the red cap out of the corner of his eye, felt the wind lift
his hair, smelled the grass, heard the pickup purring at his
back. His own vehicle, not the Army's. He held on to the
here and now, lifted his head and gave the boy a quick
once-over, every part of him but his eyes. He couldn't trust
himself to look the boy in the eye. He wasn't strong enough yet.

"That was close, wasn't it? Scared the...livin'..."

Not a word from the boy.

Cougar took the risk of patting the hand on his shoulder. It
was okay. His hand was steady. "But you're all right, huh?
No harm done?"

No response. Kid was either scared speechless, or he was deaf.

Or blind. One eye, anyway. The other eye didn't move. Cougar
looked him up and down again, but the only sign of blood was
a skinned knee peeking through a stained hole in his jeans.

Wordlessly the boy turned tail and sped away like a fish
running up against a glass wall. Cougar stood slowly,
pushing off on his thighs with less than steady hands,
lifting his gaze from the soles of the boy's pumping tennis
shoes, down the road to the finish line.

The barn's side door flew open, and there was Mama. She was
all sound and flurry. "Mark!"

Get set, go! Cougar heard within his head, where his pounding pulse kept pace with retreating feet. He got back into his pickup and let the tires crawl the rest of the way, passing up the house for the barn, where the woman—small, slight, certainly pretty and pretty certainly upset—would be somebody to talk to. The options—all but one—weren't exactly jumping out at him.

He parked, drew a long, deep breath on the reminder that he
hadn't killed anybody today and then blew it out slowly,
again thanking any higher power that might be listening. The
doc's slow, deep breathing trick seemed to be working.

"Is the boy all right?" Cougar called out as he flung the
pickup door shut.

The woman held the boy's face in her hands, checking for
damage. Cougar watched her long, lush ponytail bob and weave
as she fussed over her charge. It swung shoulder to shoulder
as she turned big, bright, beautiful brown eyes on Cougar.
"What happened?"

For the sake of those wondrous eyes he wished he had an
answer. "Whatever he told you." He took a step, testing his
welcome. "I'm still not sure."

"He hasn't told me anything. He doesn't speak."

Cougar looked down at the boy, who appeared to be taking his
measure. "So you weren't holding out on me. But you took off
before I got around to saying I'm..." He offered his hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

"What happened?" the woman insisted. "I'd say he came out of nowhere, but that would sound like an excuse. All I know is that I slammed on the brakes, and..." He shook his head. "Then I saw his cap, then a hand and I thought I'd, uh. hit—" he glanced at the boy, and his stomach knotted "—somebody." "You stopped before you saw anything?"

"Yeah. Well, I." He owed it to her straight, just the way he
remembered it. "I had a feeling. It's hard to explain. I
guess I was admiring the scenery." He adjusted his new brown
Stetson, stirred some gravel beneath his shifting boots. "I
didn't see him. Didn't hit the horn, nothing."

"I was just getting some." She gestured toward the door she'd left open. "Oh, God, I wasn't paying attention. I let him slip..." She gave her head a quick shake. "I slipped. For a minute. More than a minute." She pulled the boy's head to her body. The top of it fit nicely between her breasts. He gave her a quick hug and then ducked under her arms and backed away, leaving her empty arms still reaching for him. "Oh, Markie-B, I thought you were playing with the kittens."

"I guess the mama got away. He was chasing her." Cougar's
gaze connected with the boy's. "Right, Mark? You were just
trying to bring Mama Cat back to her babies."

"Was it close?" the woman asked, almost inaudibly.

"He must've tripped. He was face-in-the-dirt. Blew the knee
out of his jeans." He turned to the woman. "He can't hear,
either?"

She shook her head. "As far as we know."

"Don't they have tests for that?" You just crossed the line, Cougar.

"Yes, of course. Tests. All kinds of tests." She offered him
her hand. "I'm Celia Banyon. My son, Mark, is a mystery. We
really don't know what's going on."

"Yeah, it was close." Either the truth or her touch made him
weaken inside. He glanced away. "Really close."

"I'm...He looks..." She cleared her throat, stepped back,
and her hand slid away. "Are you here to see Sally?"

That's right. He was on a mission that hadnothing to do with a stray kid.

"I'm here about the training contest. The name's Cougar."

"First? Last?"

"Always." She gave him a puzzled look, and he took a shot at
smiling. "Just Cougar. One name is enough." He glanced at
the house. "Is she here?"

"Nope, it's just me and Mark holding down the fort today.
Everyone else is either out in the field or taking care of
business. You're a trainer?"

"I've trained my own horses, yeah. I heard about this wild
horse contest from a friend, so I thought I'd have a look
for myself, see if I can qualify."

"Mustang Sally's Wild Horse Makeover Competition. I'm not
actually involved. We're volunteers with the sanctuary.
Aren't we, Mark?" She touched the boy's shoulder, and he
looked up at her. "We help Sally with the horses, don't we?"
Then turning her attention back to Cougar, she shaded her
eyes with her hand. "Sally and her husband had an
appointment. Everyone else is working. I could get you an
information packet from the office." She glanced at the boy.
"We need to go in and take care of your knee anyway, don't we?"

Mark was staring at Cougar, who felt obliged to honor the
eye contact since the boy seemed to be a few senses short of
a full house.

"Where was he?" Celia asked. "He couldn't've been far away.
Right? He was right here with me, and then."