Dwayne’s radio went off before he’d even finished dressing in the morning. “Coyotes in the herd in sector nine.” The distance and warbling of Kurt’s voice didn’t erase his concern.
Dwayne grabbed his hat, stuffed his feet into his boots, and left his house. He hadn’t eaten breakfast or brushed his teeth. Didn’t matter. His cattle were more precious than calories or cavities.
He normally parked his truck in the four-bay shed on the ranch and took the ATV to his house. So he only had that vehicle for transportation. Dwayne swung into the open-air seat and started the engine, his heart thrumming along with the vehicle.
Kurt kept the updates going on the radio, so by the time Dwayne arrived in sector nine, he knew exactly what to expect. Three downed cows that needed veterinary care, and a
