Black Hills
Page 37
“Could’ve been an animal.”
She hissed out a breath. “Okay, yes, you probably know the difference as well as I do. What the hell is that for?” she demanded, pointing at the 9mm in his hand.
“For immunizing.”
“Jesus, Cooper.”
Rather than respond, he went back to his tent, came out with a flashlight. He handed it to her. “Read the tracks.”
She shone the light on the snow. “Okay, that’s you, likely moving off from the campsite to empty your bladder.”
“You’d be right about that.”
“And that’s another set of tracks, coming from across the stream, cutting this way. Walking. Heading north, that’s at a run, or at least a good lope.” She huffed out a breath. “Poacher, maybe. Somebody looking to set up a hunting stand, spotted the campsite. But hell, the tracks look like the ones up by the cage. Could still be a poacher. Just one who likes to screw around.”
“Maybe.”
“You probably still think like a cop, or a PI, so everyone’s a suspect. And you’re probably thinking I’d have had trouble if you weren’t here.”
“Wow, now you’re a mind reader.”
“I know how it goes. Believe me, you wouldn’t be thrilled to take a hit with one of these tranqs. And believe me, I can handle myself. I’ve been handling myself for a long time.” She paused just long enough to make sure that sank in. “But I appreciate the advantage of numbers. I’m not a fool.”
“Then you’re asking yourself how he moved so fast, and straight for the trail, in the dark. Moon’s set. It’s getting lighter now, but it was pitch.”
“His eyes adjusted or he has infrared. Probably the latter if he’s scouting a hunting site in the dark. He knows what he’s doing. I’ll report it, but-”
She broke off at the beep inside her tent. Forgetting everything else, she dashed back, dived inside. “There she is! Son of a bitch. You must be my good-luck charm. I didn’t expect to get a look, not really. There’s that beauty,” she murmured as she watched the young cougar scenting the air at the far end of the grassland. “Coop, come see this. Come on.”
She shifted to give him an angle on the screen when he eased in. “She’s got the scent of the bait. Stalking, keeping to the shadows and the brush. Secretive. She can see in the dark, keen eyes. The cage is an unknown, but inside it? That scent. God, she’s beautiful. Look at her.”
She seemed to swim across the snow, bellying down.
Then she was up, and Lil caught her breath at the flash of speed, the power. Leap, bound, streak. Even as the trap sprang, the cat had the bait in her jaws.
“We got her. We got her!” On a triumphant laugh, Lil grabbed Coop’s arm. “Did you see how-”
She turned her head. Her mouth nearly collided with his in the close confines of the tent. She felt the heat from him, saw the glint of his eyes, those ice blue eyes. For an instant, just an instant, the memory of him, of them, flooded her.
Then she moved back, out of the danger zone. “I need to get my gear. It’s nearly dawn. It’ll be light enough to see the trail soon.”
She picked up the radio phone. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to make a call.”
9
Since she had more to pack up and deal with than he did, Coop fried up some bacon, made coffee. By the time she’d made her calls, gotten her gear, he’d put a trail breakfast together and set his campsite to rights. He was saddling his horse when she came over to saddle her own.
“What are you going to do with her?”
“Immobilize. With the drug gun I brought, I can get within two feet of her, inject a dart into her without hurting her. I’ll take blood and hair samples, gauge her weight, age, size, and so on. Fit her with a radio collar. Thanks,” she added, obviously distracted when he handed her a mug of coffee. “I plan on giving her a small dose, but it’ll keep her out a couple of hours, so I’ll have to stand by until she comes out of it, recovers. Until she’s recovered fully from the drug, she’s vulnerable. It’s a good day’s work, but if things go well, by noon she’ll be on her way, and I’ll have what I came for.”
“And what does all that give you?”
“You mean besides satisfaction?” As the sun pinked the rims of the eastern hills, she swung into the saddle. “Information. The cougar’s listed as a near-threatened species. Most people, I’m talking people who live and travel in known cougar territories, never see one.”
“Most people wouldn’t be you.” He mounted, offered her one of the bacon biscuits he’d put together.
“No, they wouldn’t.” She looked at the biscuit, then at him. “You made breakfast. Now I feel guilty about bitching about you coming along.”
“That’s a nice side benefit.”
“Anyway”-she took a bite as they turned the horses toward the trail-“most of the sightings reported turn out to be bobcat, or the occasional pet. People buy exotic cats-and we get calls every month from someone who did, and doesn’t know what the hell to do now that Fuzzy isn’t a cute little kitten anymore.” She took another bite. “But mostly, people see a bobcat and think-holy shit, cougar. And even on the rare occasion it is holy shit, cougar, most people don’t understand it isn’t looking for man meat.”
“There was a woman right in Deadwood a year or so ago who almost had one join her in her hot tub.”
“Yeah, that was cool.” Lil polished off the biscuit. “The point that might be missed is it wasn’t interested in her-didn’t attack. It was stalking deer and ended up on her back deck at the same time she was having her soak. It took a look at her, probably thought, Not dinner-went away. We encroach, Coop, and you don’t want to get me started on my conservation riff, believe me. But we do. So we have to learn how to live with them, protect the species. They don’t want to be around us. They don’t want to be around one another unless it’s time to mate. They’re solitary, and while they interact with others higher on the apex in some habitats, we’re their only predator once they reach maturity.”
“Might make me think twice about putting in a hot tub.”
She laughed. “One’s unlikely to join you. They can swim, but they don’t much care for it. The girl up there’s wondering how the hell she got trapped? She’s got about another eight, nine years if she hits the average life span for a female in the wild. She’ll mate every couple of years, have a litter, again on average of three. Two of those three will likely die before their first year. She’ll feed them, defend them to the death, teach them to hunt. She’ll love them until it’s time to let them go. She might range a hundred and fifty square miles of territory during her life span.”
She hissed out a breath. “Okay, yes, you probably know the difference as well as I do. What the hell is that for?” she demanded, pointing at the 9mm in his hand.
“For immunizing.”
“Jesus, Cooper.”
Rather than respond, he went back to his tent, came out with a flashlight. He handed it to her. “Read the tracks.”
She shone the light on the snow. “Okay, that’s you, likely moving off from the campsite to empty your bladder.”
“You’d be right about that.”
“And that’s another set of tracks, coming from across the stream, cutting this way. Walking. Heading north, that’s at a run, or at least a good lope.” She huffed out a breath. “Poacher, maybe. Somebody looking to set up a hunting stand, spotted the campsite. But hell, the tracks look like the ones up by the cage. Could still be a poacher. Just one who likes to screw around.”
“Maybe.”
“You probably still think like a cop, or a PI, so everyone’s a suspect. And you’re probably thinking I’d have had trouble if you weren’t here.”
“Wow, now you’re a mind reader.”
“I know how it goes. Believe me, you wouldn’t be thrilled to take a hit with one of these tranqs. And believe me, I can handle myself. I’ve been handling myself for a long time.” She paused just long enough to make sure that sank in. “But I appreciate the advantage of numbers. I’m not a fool.”
“Then you’re asking yourself how he moved so fast, and straight for the trail, in the dark. Moon’s set. It’s getting lighter now, but it was pitch.”
“His eyes adjusted or he has infrared. Probably the latter if he’s scouting a hunting site in the dark. He knows what he’s doing. I’ll report it, but-”
She broke off at the beep inside her tent. Forgetting everything else, she dashed back, dived inside. “There she is! Son of a bitch. You must be my good-luck charm. I didn’t expect to get a look, not really. There’s that beauty,” she murmured as she watched the young cougar scenting the air at the far end of the grassland. “Coop, come see this. Come on.”
She shifted to give him an angle on the screen when he eased in. “She’s got the scent of the bait. Stalking, keeping to the shadows and the brush. Secretive. She can see in the dark, keen eyes. The cage is an unknown, but inside it? That scent. God, she’s beautiful. Look at her.”
She seemed to swim across the snow, bellying down.
Then she was up, and Lil caught her breath at the flash of speed, the power. Leap, bound, streak. Even as the trap sprang, the cat had the bait in her jaws.
“We got her. We got her!” On a triumphant laugh, Lil grabbed Coop’s arm. “Did you see how-”
She turned her head. Her mouth nearly collided with his in the close confines of the tent. She felt the heat from him, saw the glint of his eyes, those ice blue eyes. For an instant, just an instant, the memory of him, of them, flooded her.
Then she moved back, out of the danger zone. “I need to get my gear. It’s nearly dawn. It’ll be light enough to see the trail soon.”
She picked up the radio phone. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to make a call.”
9
Since she had more to pack up and deal with than he did, Coop fried up some bacon, made coffee. By the time she’d made her calls, gotten her gear, he’d put a trail breakfast together and set his campsite to rights. He was saddling his horse when she came over to saddle her own.
“What are you going to do with her?”
“Immobilize. With the drug gun I brought, I can get within two feet of her, inject a dart into her without hurting her. I’ll take blood and hair samples, gauge her weight, age, size, and so on. Fit her with a radio collar. Thanks,” she added, obviously distracted when he handed her a mug of coffee. “I plan on giving her a small dose, but it’ll keep her out a couple of hours, so I’ll have to stand by until she comes out of it, recovers. Until she’s recovered fully from the drug, she’s vulnerable. It’s a good day’s work, but if things go well, by noon she’ll be on her way, and I’ll have what I came for.”
“And what does all that give you?”
“You mean besides satisfaction?” As the sun pinked the rims of the eastern hills, she swung into the saddle. “Information. The cougar’s listed as a near-threatened species. Most people, I’m talking people who live and travel in known cougar territories, never see one.”
“Most people wouldn’t be you.” He mounted, offered her one of the bacon biscuits he’d put together.
“No, they wouldn’t.” She looked at the biscuit, then at him. “You made breakfast. Now I feel guilty about bitching about you coming along.”
“That’s a nice side benefit.”
“Anyway”-she took a bite as they turned the horses toward the trail-“most of the sightings reported turn out to be bobcat, or the occasional pet. People buy exotic cats-and we get calls every month from someone who did, and doesn’t know what the hell to do now that Fuzzy isn’t a cute little kitten anymore.” She took another bite. “But mostly, people see a bobcat and think-holy shit, cougar. And even on the rare occasion it is holy shit, cougar, most people don’t understand it isn’t looking for man meat.”
“There was a woman right in Deadwood a year or so ago who almost had one join her in her hot tub.”
“Yeah, that was cool.” Lil polished off the biscuit. “The point that might be missed is it wasn’t interested in her-didn’t attack. It was stalking deer and ended up on her back deck at the same time she was having her soak. It took a look at her, probably thought, Not dinner-went away. We encroach, Coop, and you don’t want to get me started on my conservation riff, believe me. But we do. So we have to learn how to live with them, protect the species. They don’t want to be around us. They don’t want to be around one another unless it’s time to mate. They’re solitary, and while they interact with others higher on the apex in some habitats, we’re their only predator once they reach maturity.”
“Might make me think twice about putting in a hot tub.”
She laughed. “One’s unlikely to join you. They can swim, but they don’t much care for it. The girl up there’s wondering how the hell she got trapped? She’s got about another eight, nine years if she hits the average life span for a female in the wild. She’ll mate every couple of years, have a litter, again on average of three. Two of those three will likely die before their first year. She’ll feed them, defend them to the death, teach them to hunt. She’ll love them until it’s time to let them go. She might range a hundred and fifty square miles of territory during her life span.”
