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Sonny hated to leave, but he knew Pearl had a shotgun and Maggie swung a mean bat, and they were safer together than alone.

Something was off. He could feel it. It was the same way he always felt before getting on the wrong bull. There were bucking bulls that just wanted the rider off their backs, and killer bulls that wanted to destroy. He’d always known the moment he sat astride one, which one he was going to get. After that, it had been a matter of holding on tighter, riding smarter, clearing the fall safer. Only there were no bulls in sight and the hair was still standing up on his arms.

He began driving slowly through the business area, looking for something out of place. Some flash of light in a business supposed to be closed. Cars with out-of-state or out-of-county tags. He eased past the bank, the post office, and the quick stop—driving past alleys looking for a car that didn’t belong. But it wasn’t until he drove past Belker’s supermarket and saw a flash of light in the back of the store that his senses went on alert. The only pharmacy in town was in the back of that store.

He parked in the shadows, got Emmit’s hunting rifle from behind the back seat, and quietly walked to the alley at the back of the store. When he saw a car with out-of-state tags, and the back door to the pharmacy slightly ajar, he moved up to the door long enough to hear them talking, realized they were after opiates and narcotics, and moved back away from the building and made a quick call. A man answered.

“Briscoe County sheriff’s office.”

“This is Sonny Bluejacket calling to report a robbery in progress in the pharmacy at Belker’s supermarket in Crossroads. The power is out in town.”

“Dispatching officers to that location,” he said. “Do you know how many there are?”

“I heard three different voices. All men. They’re driving an old Dodge Charger. Red with a black racing stripe from front to back. Out-of-state tags.”

“Did you get the number?”

“Yes, took a picture. Give me a sec,” Sonny said, pulled up the photo and read off the numbers to the dispatcher.

“Where are you now?” the dispatcher asked.

“Parked on the other side of the street. Staying out of sight. I’m about to let the air out of all four tires. I’m putting my phone on Vibrate. Gotta go.”

The dispatcher began relaying the information to the officers en route while Sonny slipped back up behind the car and quickly sliced the valve stems off of all four tires. They went flat within seconds. He was about to go back to his truck when he saw the little skunk come waddling out from behind the dumpster. There was a good fifteen feet between them, and Sonny saw no sign that the skunk was suddenly defensive. So, there they stood, looking at each other—judging their options.

Then Sonny saw a discarded paper bag with some garbage inside. He eased over and picked it up, noticed the partially eaten burger and leftover fries inside, then squatted down, so he would not be looming.

“Little Brother, I am asking for your help.”

The skunk was still watching as Sonny carefully backed up, opened a door to the back seat, and emptied the contents of the bag into the floorboard, all except for one french fry, which he broke in two pieces. He tossed one close to the skunk, laid the next piece on the ground beside the open door, then stepped back.

The little skunk’s nose came up, sniffing the air as it waddled toward the piece of potato and gobbled it down before following the scents, and found the other piece on the ground beside the car.

At that point, Sonny was a distance away, and holding his breath as he watched the skunk eat that, before sniffing the air for more.

“That’s it, Little Brother. Just jump inside and dig in,” he muttered.

The skunk’s nose was in the air, sniffing, sniffing, then one leap and he was inside the car, digging through the garbage and nibbling away.

Sonny bolted toward the car, quietly pushed the door shut without letting it latch, and then whispered, as if the skunk could actually hear and understand.

“Way to go, Little Brother. Be ready. You will know what to do.” Then he ran back across the street into the shadows to wait.

Within minutes, the back door to the pharmacy opened, and three men came out heading for their car, each carrying bags stuffed with the stolen drugs. He could hear them laughing about the great haul they’d just made, and cutting off the power to a town with no police presence.

In the dark, they were moving fast as they jumped inside the car and slammed the doors, but when they started the engine and put it in Reverse, it was immediately obvious something was wrong with the tires and the driver yanked it back into Park just as the skunk fired away.

Sonny could see vague shadows of them waving their arms, and struggling to get out, then suddenly the doors flew open, and they were launching themselves out of the seats as if they’d been shot out of a cannon. They were screaming and gagging, cursing the skunk and each other.

He knew their eyes would be on fire and swelling with every heartbeat, and their noses were burning. He watched them gasping for air, only to take a breath and gag again. They began blindly running into each other and then falling and trying to get up and get away, even though they could barely see where they were going.

Sonny watched the little skunk hop out and run into the bushes, while the three men continued to stagger down the street, cursing and stumbling and falling.

Sonny drove all the way down to the main highway, then parked where he could still see them. One of them managed to get up and stagger blindly into a tree, promptly knocking himself out. Another ran into a parked car, fell onto the hood, then slid off into the street with a thud, and threw up all over himself. The third one had fallen in a ditch and was crying. He grinned. They were down for the count without a single shot fired.

It wasn’t long before he began hearing sirens and then they grew louder as two patrol cars turned off the highway. He flashed his lights at them, then stepped out of his truck, making sure they could see he was unarmed.

When the sheriff saw it was Sonny, he braked and rolled down the window.

“Did they get away?” Matt Reddick asked.

“Naw, but they did get skunked. The stuff they stole is still in the car behind the supermarket, but you’re not going to want to get too close to it for a while. One of the fools ran into a tree and knocked himself out. One’s sitting up there by that parked car, throwing up all over himself, and the third one is in a ditch, crying for his mama.”

Matt Reddick grinned. “How did you pull that off?” he asked.

“I let the air out of their tires, then put a skunk in the back seat. They did the rest when they got in and slammed the doors.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you managed to get a skunk in a car without being sprayed, but now we have to drag their stinky asses back to the jail.”

“They’re pretty sick. Maybe you should call for an ambulance first,” Sonny said.

“Hold that thought,” Matt said, and immediately radioed for two ambulances to be dispatched to Crossroads, and to bring whatever they needed to offset the symptoms of direct skunk attacks.

At the same moment, Sonny saw a big bucket truck pulling up beneath the first power pole near the highway.

“That’ll be the crew from the power company. The thieves are responsible for the blackout. A bunch of the residents called in the outage. If you don’t need me anymore, I think I’ll head home. Oh, tell your men if they see a skunk around, not to bother him. It’s just Little Brother, and he’s the actual hero in the story, okay?”

Matt stared. “You talk to a skunk?”

Sonny shrugged. “When the need arises.”

Matt waved Sonny off, rolled the window back up, and dispatched one car to keep an eye on the thieves. He still had to notify the owner of the supermarket that his pharmacy had been robbed, and check in with the crew from the power company.

“We don’t need weapons for this arrest, but we damn sure could do with some gas masks,” Matt mumbled, then called dispatch to get a phone number for the grocery store owner.

***

Once Sonny got out of Crossroads, he stopped to call Maggie, then rolled down his windows to air out his truck. It didn’t get any direct spray, but the scent of skunk was likely all over that side of town by now.

Maggie answered on the first ring. “I heard police sirens. What fresh hell did you start?”

He laughed. “Fresh isn’t quite the right word. Skunky is more like it. Is Pearl okay?”

“Yes. I’m on the sofa in her living room. She finally got off to sleep and we will be closed for at least the next two days. What happened, seriously?”

“I saw a light in the back of the grocery store as I drove past and figured someone might be robbing the pharmacy, and they were. I called the sheriff, cut the valve stems off their tires, and waited. Along comes our little skunk friend. I tossed some garbage in the back floorboard of their car and left the door open. Long story short, he jumped in. I pushed the door shut, then went across the street to wait.”

Maggie gasped. “You got a skunk to get into a car?”

“Pretty much. Then the thieves came out and jumped in their car and slammed the doors. That’s when Little Brother went into action. They couldn’t get out fast enough. They were blinded by the fumes, mostly screaming, and gagging, and running into each other. Right now, they’re either unconscious or still puking, and the law has arrived.”

Maggie burst out laughing. “This is legendary. You are going to be the talk of the town.” And then a thought occurred. “Did the little skunk get away?”

Sonny smiled. There it was again—the concern for someone, or something else. “Yes, Magnolia, Little Brother hopped out during all the chaos and waddled off into the brush. He’s fine.”

“Good. I wouldn’t like to think that they might have hurt him.”

Sonny chuckled. “They only hurt themselves. I’m headed home now. Don’t open your windows. If it gets stuffy, turn on the air conditioning. If Pearl doesn’t need you and you get bored at home, come spend some time at the ranch. Oh, and call me if you need me.”

Maggie sighed. “Ah, Sonny Bluejacket, I’m beginning to think I will always need you.”

The words were still echoing in Sonny’s ears when she disconnected. He drove home with a smile on his face, only to arrive at a house without lights. He stripped on the back porch, left his clothes where they fell, and stood naked, feeling the night air on his skin. The air was fresh and cool. The sky was littered with stars as he gazed across the land. And as he stood, the lights flickered inside and then came on. Power and order had obviously been restored. He gathered up his clothes and went inside, put them in to wash, then took a shower.

Much later, as he was finally getting into bed, he thought of the little kùnu and smiled.

***

It was 3:00 a.m., the witching hour, when Sonny woke abruptly. His first instinct was to get up and run, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know what had awakened him, so he laid there a few seconds, listening.

Within seconds, he heard a pack of coyotes yipping close by, and then he heard the horses and bailed out of bed. He yanked on a pair of jeans, stomped his feet into his boots and grabbed Emmit’s rifle, making sure it was loaded as he pocketed a handful of shells and left the house on the run.

The moon was full, bathing the pasture in an eerie blue glow as he ran through the stable, through the corral, and out into the pasture. The herd was running, coming from the south, and behind them, a moving shadow on the ground.

Coyotes attacking a herd of full-grown horses wasn’t normal unless they were running with foals, and he had none. He swung the rifle up into the air and fired two shots in rapid succession. The horses were still running, but at the sounds of gunfire, the shadow broke into pieces, and the distance between the coyotes and the horses lengthened.

Sonny swung the rifle down toward the shadows and fired shots in rapid succession. He heard one sharp yip—a sign he’d hit one of them, but their yipping and barking sounds were now moving back south, away from the ranch.

He stood in the pasture until the sounds had completely faded. He knew the horses would settle once they knew danger had passed. But come morning, he had some tracking to do, and needed daylight to see if any of the horses had been injured.

He went back inside the house to get a shirt, made some coffee, then took it to the back porch to drink, settling himself to a self-imposed guard duty with the rifle in his lap.

He was still sitting there when the sun came up, and the first thing he did was drive to the area where he’d first seen the shadow on the move. The horses were back near the ranch. He saw them up on a rise, but when he didn’t drive toward them, they went back to grazing.

He found tracks almost immediately, got out and started walking on foot, backtracking south, looking for more signs. He was so focused on tracking, he didn’t know that the Appaloosa had left the herd and was walking his way, likely thinking about apple treats.

He was still looking down when he saw a big shadow pass over the ground ahead of him, and looked up to see buzzards circling the sky. He thought of the pain-filled yip he’d heard when he shot into the pack, and wondered if one of them had crawled off and died. He started walking faster, curious to see what was down there.

It was buzzards on the ground that led him to the carcass. They flew off as he approached, giving him a clearer view, although they’d torn up the body enough that it was difficult to determine details. He squatted down, staying upwind of the carcass for a closer view, and was surprised by the size of it. It mostly looked like a coyote, but there were some differences in the features and the bigger bodies and longer legs. It was certainly bigger than normal, which made him think it might be a hybrid. A dog/coyote mating would explain it.

He straightened up, and as he did, heard a low, guttural growl behind him, and pivoted just as the pack began emerging from the brush. They stopped as he turned to face them, but the continuing growls were signs they weren’t going to back down.

He was so focused on surviving this, that he didn’t have time to be afraid. He swung the rifle up, guessing he could get about three of them before they attacked, and counting on the gunfire to scatter the rest. But before he could get off a shot, the thunder of hoofbeats was behind him, and then passing him.

It was Dancer, charging at the pack, kicking, and stomping, and screaming as only a horse can do in moments of pain or anger.

Sonny’s shock was momentary, but now he couldn’t get a shot for fear of hurting his horse, and he had to get Dancer out of that mess.

Without thinking, he ran into the fray, grabbed a fistful of Dancer’s dark mane, and in a running leap, swung his leg up and over, landing on the horse’s back. No reins. No halter, no saddle. All he could do was lock his legs around the horse’s belly like he locked on to the back of the bull, and began firing at the pack.

The first shot scattered them, and when it did, Sonny kicked Dancer’s flanks, urging him forward. The horse took off like a bullet. After that, Sonny began picking off the coyotes one by one as Dancer ran them down, racing them across the wide-open space like a guided missile locked on to a target.

Sonny’s entire focus was on hitting coyotes and not falling off. He’d counted seven when they first appeared, but five were down, and now there were only two, still running ahead of him but veering west. He took aim and fired at the nearest one. It yelped and went down, and then there was one, still running at top speed.

Dancer needed no urging.

Sonny took aim and fired. The coyote yelped as it flipped in mid-air, then dropped. It was still kicking when Sonny rode up and fired one last shot, then leaned over Dancer’s neck and hugged him.

“Good boy! Good boy! You are a warrior’s horse, and magic isn’t enough to describe what you just did. You saved my life. Now take me home.”

The Appaloosa reacted to Sonny’s urging, and turned north. When they reached the spot where he’d lost his hat, Sonny stopped Dancer and slid off. He laid his face against the horse’s neck one last time to catch his breath, then gave him a pat on the rump, thinking the horse would rejoin the herd. But it wouldn’t leave. Instead, it maintained a steady walk beside him all the way back to the truck. As soon as Sonny opened the door, he reached into the console and grabbed a couple of apple treats and gave them to Dancer one at a time.

Another shadow passed overhead. He looked up. Buzzards were already circling. They would clean up the carcasses, and the herd was safe.

As he got in the truck, Dancer kicked up his heels and took off running. By the time Sonny got back to the ranch house, the Appaloosa was at the water tank with the rest of the herd.

It wasn’t until the rifle was back on the rack, and Sonny was standing within the silence of his house, that the reality of what just happened hit. His knees became weak, and his muscles began shaking from the adrenaline crash.

He’d taunted death every time he’d gotten onto the back of a bull. But that had been his choice. Today was a lesson. He couldn’t walk on foot here and assume safety like he had back in Bluejacket Hollow. Existence out here came with a price.

***

Walker Bluejacket woke up in jail. He didn’t remember anything after downing his fifth beer, but his jaw hurt and his knuckles were swollen and bloody, so he assumed he’d gotten into a fight. He rolled over on the cot and sat up, glanced at the guy in the next holding cell who was glaring at him, and sighed. Winston Billy. Oh yeah. Now I remember. He stood up. “What are you looking at?” he muttered.

“An old drunk,” Billy said.

“You’re in the same place I am,” Walker snapped.

“Because I punched the old drunk last night for insulting my wife,” Billy countered.

Walker shrugged. “My tongue is loose when I am drunk.”

Billy pointed at him. “You ever do that again, and you’ll be picking up what’s left of your teeth from the floor. Understand?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Walker said, and sat down.

***

A short while later, Winston Billy’s wife bailed him out of jail. When the jailer came to get Winston, Walker called out, “Ask your wife if she’ll bail me out, too,” and then laughed at him, but once Winston Billy was gone, there was no one to hassle. No one to laugh at.

Walker had burned too many bridges to hope anyone would even know he was missing. He would spend a couple of days in jail, pay a small fine, and be out with no one the wiser as to where he’d been.

He stretched back out on the cot, folded his hands beneath his head for a pillow and stared up at the watermarks on the ceiling of the cell and realized something was leaking above him, and from the looks of it, it was an ongoing problem. Some of the spots were dark and rusty looking from age, while the spot beside it was gray and wet, and bulging like a loaded diaper.

He jumped up and began banging on the bars, yelling out until the jailer appeared.

“Damn it, Walker. It’s not like you’ve never been here before. Keep it down,” he said.

Walker pointed up to the ceiling above his cot.

“Something is leaking on the floor above. At least move me to another cell before all of that comes down on me.”

The jailer looked up, groaned, and bolted out of the room.

“Hey! What about me?” Walker yelled, but he didn’t get an answer. Frustrated, he pulled the worn mattress off the frame, dragged it to the other side of the narrow cell, then laid back down. At least the ceiling wouldn’t fall on his face.

***

Charlie Bluejacket was on his way to work when his cell phone rang. He frowned at the caller’s ID, then answered.

“Hello, this is Charlie.”

“Charlie, it’s Marcus down here at the bar. Your old man got hauled off to jail last night for drunk and disorderly. His truck is still here and illegally parked. Does anyone want to come and get it?”

“Nope. Walker makes his own trouble. He cleans up his own messes,” Charlie said, and hung up. On impulse, he called Sonny as he drove.

***

Sonny was outside on the back porch cleaning the rifle before hanging it back on the rack when Charlie’s name popped up on caller ID. He smiled. They hadn’t talked since parting at the bus station in Tulsa, and he quickly answered.

“Hey, brother, how’s it going?” he said.

“Same old, same old,” Charlie said. “Butters got neutered. Frannie wants a chicken house, and Julia is bugging me to take her to the daddy-daughter dance at her school. Walker is back in jail for D&D. Marcus from Dad’s old hangout called asking me if I wanted to come get his truck before it gets towed. I told him to tow away.”

Sonny ignored the update on their dad. “If you build that chicken house, remind Miss Frances that every hawk in Bluejacket Hollow will appreciate her offerings, unless you build a great big cage around the whole thing,” Sonny said.

Charlie chuckled. “Good call. I’m going to price what it costs to build all that, what chicken feed and hen scratch are going to cost monthly, and see if she’s still in the mood to raise chickens. So how are things going with you? What does a thousand acres of high prairie look like?”

“High mesas, a lot of sage and yucca and less grass. But it’s beautiful in its way. My arrival got a bit hectic,” Sonny said. “I arrived to discover the guy renting from Emmit just confiscated all the horses and equipment and his truck and had laid claim to it.”

Charlie grunted. “Oh man. What happened?”

Sonny unrolled the story about the missing horses and truck. “Now they’re in jail and I’m out here doing my thing.”

“Awesome, little brother. I am happy for you. Any pretty girls out there in the middle of nowhere?” Charlie asked.

“Yes.”

Charlie blinked. “I was teasing you, but you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Charlie grinned. “So, you’re goin’ all silent on me?”

“Yes,” Sonny said, and then grinned to himself when he heard Charlie snort in frustration.

“Okay, fine. So, what’s on your agenda today?” Charlie asked.

“Horse stuff. There is an Appaloosa in the herd named Fancy Dancer that I’ve taken a shine to. I will not be selling him, ever,” Sonny said.

“Aah, an Appaloosa. I wish I could see you on that horse,” Charlie said.

“Maybe I’ll get that pretty girl to take a picture of me, and send it to you.”

“Maybe take a picture of you and the pretty girl while you’re at it?” Charlie suggested.

“Maybe,” Sonny said. “Love to all. Tell Julia that Uncle Sonny loves her, and to send me a picture of you and her at the dance.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Charlie said. “Stay safe, brother. Can’t do without you.”

“Doing my best, and thank you for always being there…for all of us,” and then he disconnected.

Charlie always wanted to know everything. Sonny didn’t mind. It was just Charlie being the big brother. He glanced at the time, wanting to call Maggie, but he hesitated. Without knowing what kind of a night she’d had with Pearl, he thought they may both be sleeping.

So, he sent her a text, instead.

You are on my mind. I wanted to call but didn’t want to wake either of you if you were still asleep. Are you and Pearl okay? Let me know if you need help.

Then he hit Send, finished cleaning the rifle, and put it back on the rack.

***

It was Pearl’s groan and then a string of muttered curses that woke Maggie.

Oh no! Pearl! The fall!

She flew off the sofa and ran into the bedroom to find Pearl teetering on the side of the bed, holding her head.

Maggie hurried to her side. “You headed to the bathroom?”

“I thought about it,” Pearl mumbled.

Maggie slid her arm around Pearl’s waist and helped her stand, then walked her into the bathroom before leaving her on her own. But her thoughts were already in plan mode. The Closed sign was staying on the door. She had to call Carson to tell him not to come to work, and get Pearl settled with food before she left.

As she sat down on Pearl’s bed to make the call, she saw a text from Sonny. She read it and smiled. She’d answer after she got Pearl settled. She notified Carson, and was still sitting on the bed when the bathroom door opened. She jumped up to help Pearl, and saw the tears on Pearl’s face.

“Do I need to get you to a doctor?” Maggie asked.

Pearl shook her head. “No, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

“You go right ahead and do that,” Maggie said. “Meanwhile, the Rose will be closed for at least the next two days, and depending on how you feel at that point, maybe more. The Closed sign is up. I called Carson not to come to work. And I’m going to the supermarket to get some food in for you that you don’t have to cook. And don’t argue with me.”

Pearl threw her arms around Maggie’s neck. “Thank you, baby. If you could make me some coffee and toast, I’ll be good to go.”

Maggie led her back to bed. “I’ll do all of that and gladly, if you will stay up here, at least for today. No running up and down the stairs. Whatever you need up here, I’ll bring it up before I leave. And if you need anything during the day, you will call me. Are we clear?”

Pearl sank into the pillows beneath her head. “Perfectly. Is the air conditioning on?”

“Yes,” Maggie said.

“Why? I usually sleep with the windows open at night until later in the year.”

Maggie shrugged. “Last night, Sonny said keep the windows closed. Something about a skunk.”

“Ah, well, that makes sense. And it does feel good,” Pearl said. “Thank Sonny for me, too. Did you ever find out what happened with the power last night?”

Maggie sat back down beside her. “Oh girl! Have I got a story for you!” And then she related the story Sonny told her, from seeing a light flash in the pharmacy, to the thieves, skunk-drunk and throwing up on Main Street.

Pearl was laughing and moaning all at the same time. “Oh, my lord! It hurts to laugh, but that’s the best story I’ve heard in years. Did he get skunked, too?”

Maggie giggled. “No. I think he and animals are on the same wavelength, but enough about all that. I’m getting your coffee and toast, then I’m going through your refrigerator. I can bring some stuff up from the kitchen downstairs, then I’m going to Belker’s to get some food you don’t have to cook.”

At that point, she headed to Pearl’s little kitchen to make coffee and toast. While the coffee was brewing, she sent a text back to Sonny.

We’re both okay. Pearl is sore and frustrated. I made the decision that the Rose will be closed for the next two days to give her time to recoup. I’m going home to get my car, run a few errands for her, and then I would love to come see you. Do you need anything from the store?