Page 41 of Coyote

Coyote nodded and pulled the strap tight.

We kept the horses at a walk, and the ranch dropped behind us a little at a time. First, the house disappeared. Then the barns. Then the fence posts stopped cutting the land into pieces, and nothing lay ahead but red dirt, scrub, and low rock rising out of the heat.

Coyote rode beside me instead of ahead. Every few minutes, he looked at my face.

"My ribs are holding," I said again.

"I didn't ask."

"You were about to."

He looked away.

The gelding's gait rolled through my hips and pulled at every injury the boar and the javelina had given me. It wasn't pleasant, but the pain belonged to my body. I understood it. Nothing outside me needed an answer.

Coyote pointed at a hawk over the ridge. Later he pointed at tracks in the wash. Neither one needed anything from me. He pointed, I looked, and my shoulders came down another inch.

It had been a long time since a silence felt shared instead of empty.

We reached the rocks with the afternoon still ahead of us. Coyote tied the horses in the shade and loosened the mare's saddle. He crouched beside the gelding and drew his knife.

The blade rested against the leather cinch.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked.

His eyes came up. "Nothing." He ran his thumb along the stitching where the buckle joined the strap. Then he folded the knife and put it away. "Checking for wear."

The cinch looked fine to me, but I didn't know much about horses.

He removed the saddle intact and carried it beneath the rock overhang.

We covered the rest of the trail on foot. Coyote stayed close on my injured side without offering an arm. I appreciated that.

The cave sat back between two slabs of red stone, dry and cool, the mouth wide enough to let the afternoon light in. Tiny bones hung from wires across the opening and turned whenever the wind changed.

A bedroll lay against one wall beside a fire ring. Canteens, tins, rope, ammunition, and enough other supplies to suggest Coyote could stay up there a long time if he decided not to come down.

"This where you disappear to?" I asked.

"When the ranch gets loud."

I looked at the bones ticking together over our heads. "What animals are those from?"

"Human." He didn't blink.

"I'm a doctor, little one."

"Could be a bad doctor."

I stepped closer. "Rabbit. Bird. Lizard. Javelina here, and something larger. Small cat, maybe."

"Wildcat." He touched the wire with one finger. "They tell me when the wind changes."

"Useful."

"Most people think they're strange."

"They can be useful and strange."