But this was his fantasy. Eventually, Fox was going to have to stop hiding from whatever had happened at his job and go back to work. Because thinking a big-city detective would be happy there with him on his farm forever was wishful thinking at best.
Fox got up from the desk chair in his room and stretched his hands high over his head to pop the kinks from his back. He was finally finished with his work for the day after getting the motion sensor software to the right sensitivity he needed. He hadn’t realized the nightmare of having a motion-sensitive alarm in a petting zoo. There was always something in motion. He sent Free a quick message telling him that he was signing off for the day and had plans to soak up some fresh air—despite it being a chilly forty-nine degrees. Sure, he had an assignment to complete while he was there, but Fox was also supposed to be finding clarity in his messed-up life. He didn’t have a riding lesson today, so he thought he’d visit with some of the staff since they were such a hilarious bunch.
Fox added a black hoodie over his thermal top to ensure he didn’t get too cold and tucked his weapon at his back before he headed downstairs. His first stop was always Amelia’s kitchen when he finished for the day. There was never a shortage of something tasty to eat, and today was no different. Fox rubbed his hands together like a greedy kid when he saw the thick ham slices resting atop the stove on a plate covered with plastic wrap, just waiting to be shoved between two slices of bread.
He heard Amelia in the laundry room, but he didn’t bother her as he made himself a sandwich and ate it in front of the window while he watched the ranch close down for the day. Once he’d finished his bottle of water, he tucked another one in the pocket of his heavy jacket for Bull, then left out of the back door.
The minimal staff still there was usually exercising the boarding horses, while the last few customers were wrapping up their purchases and leaving for the evening. Fox was beginning to think it was his favorite time of the day. Towards the west, streaks of pink, orange, and purple bands were chased away by the dark clouds looming on the horizon. Fox stopped and stared at a flock of ducks waddling by as he leaned against the fence near the goat pen and soaked up as much nature as he could. He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to come back out to Walker Ranch. He’d liked it the first time he visited, but now, he loved every part of it. He was in the middle of texting Hart with an update on the impact it was all having on his mental health when he heard a female calling his name.
“Hi. Mandel Tucker, right?”
Fox turned around and saw a tall, lean woman with long auburn hair whipping around her face standing a few feet away from him. She wore the ranch’s uniform, but she had a stylish blazer over her white polo shirt.
“I’m Marcy, Bull’s marketing and promotions manager.” She stuck her hand out in his direction, and Fox accepted it, surprised at her strength. “Bull said he had a land surveyor doing some looking around, but I haven’t got the chance to see you.”
“Call me Fox,” he answered, hoping she wasn’t about to fire off a bunch of questions at him.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” She smiled pale red lips at him. “So, do you think it’s a good idea to expand?”
“Huh? Bull is expanding again?”
Marcy appeared confused. “Well. Yeah. Or I hope. Isn’t that why you’re here? I’ve been mentioning it to him for a while. If you’re not—”
A faint voice yelling made them both turn towards the wide pasture, but nothing looked amiss as several of the board horses stood grazing with their tails swishing in the wind. Marcy squinted at a horse galloping away from the tree line. Her eyes widened, and without another thought to him, she took off at a sprint like she was possessed. “Shannon, Scarlet, get everyone inside, now!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Bear!”
Fox leapt onto the fence to see over the few people who’d taken off running at Marcy’s warning. Though Fox still couldn’t see anything, it didn’t keep him from jumping down and moving his ass. Four of Bull’s wranglers stopped where they’d been leisurely riding and took off in the opposite direction at a breakneck gallop, reins in their hands and their elbows high as they tore up the ground, heading towards the trees.
The other trainers still there were quick to get the grazing horses trotting towards the barn, and that was when Fox saw Rid running his ass off, his startled horse racing towards the barn at least eighty yards in front of him. And close behind Bull’s stable manager was a full-sized black bear, its wide mouth stretched open, showing its sharp incisors, its forelegs kicking up dirt as it fled after him, closing the distance far faster than Rid was going.