A familiar face makes a cameo here :-D

It was dirty, smelly, backbreaking work, but the shot had been a clean one. The buck's hide was already stripped from the carcass and laid out to one side. A few thick hunks of meat cut from the bone were piled on top. Sweat gathered on her brow as she worked, mind focused on the task at hand.

Birds chirped in the distant background, insects buzzing contentedly in the shade. Just within the perimeter of her sight, a dappled filly grazed absently on fresh grass. The three-year-old was the blue roan's sister, and the last of the white stallion's foals. He'd been killed by lightening during a wicked storm just before winter. The grizzlies found the carcass before she had, and her tears had been genuine.

"This'll sure help my supplies last," she muttered to no one, tugging against a thick piece of sinew, nose wrinkled. "Even if it is gross..."

Hands red with blood, face spattered, she didn't bother mopping her brow or licking her lips. Until the buck was fully butchered- she looked up suddenly, her skin twitching. It had gone deathly silent. From where she'd grazed, the mare's head was up, sharp ears pointed toward whatever it was. Shoving the Knife blade deep into the meat, the girl stood, picking up her rifle as she turned around.

Lips dry, mouth tacky, she couldn't help the nearly painful thump of her heartbeat. Digg's memory haunted her still. In moments like this she expected him to lunge at her from the shadows, his features twisted and hard, like they'd been on that last day. It had occurred to her numerous times since then that she ought to have asked how he came to be shot and left for dead that day. If she'd asked, maybe her life would have turned out different.

"Doesn't matter anyway," her mutter was shaky but the grip on her rifle was firm. "I can protect myself."

Nightmares had plagued her for weeks, but in time, they'd faded to infrequent restless dreams that woke in her in a cold sweat. The gun she kept at her bedside was often in her hands as she sat up, trembling. A year now, and still whenever something like this happened her first thought was that he'd come back for her. Perhaps it would have been better to -

A soft sound drew her eyes toward the thick brush ringing the glade she was in. Leaves wavered where there was no breeze. The mare snorted, stomping one hoof, then she reared up with a neigh. A tawny shadow exploded from the growth with a shriek. Realization struck the young woman instantly, all previous fears vanishing.

"No!" Catapulting forward, she flew between the two creatures, rifle up finger off the trigger. "Wait!"

Body twisting gracefully, the cougar landed short of its prey, lips pulled back in a wide snarl, ears flat. Amber eyes burned with feral light as it glared at her. Hunched low, claws flexed, its long tail lashed back and forth. The girl let out the breath she'd been holding, keeping her voice low. It would've been so much better to have the black filly with her today.

"There's no need for that," she chided the lion. "There's plenty of venison left, so don't think that I'll let you get my horse. Besides...you owe me. Remember?"

A crooked scar marred the fur on the lion's flank, telltale signs of an injury that should have ended it. The girl had patched the wound when it was fresh, putting uneven stitches in. Near death, the young she-cat had been trying to survive the first year on its own when it had fallen into a hunter's trap. Coming upon it while hunting near dusk, the girl had realized the cat was barely alive, mostly skin and bones. One leg was cruelly snagged in a wire snare, cutting so deep it was in danger of being lost.

Horrified, the girl had taken the lion to the cottage and cared for it until the she-cat left on her own. Those fleeting weeks though, had established the base of a relationship that had gradually blossomed over the years. One of tenuous trust, mutual respect, and caution. Crossing paths now and again had kept the bond fresh. So now, when any other cougar would have attacked, the young lioness hesitated.

Seeing it, the girl took a step forward, eyes steady. The cougar retreated with a warning snarl.

"No need for that, you know I won't hurt you." Lowering the rifle a little, she smiled without showing her teeth. "We're friends. So-" pausing, her eyes widened at the telltale indications of motherhood beneath the cougar's belly. Not only alive, but a grown she-cat with kittens! It thrilled her.

"Good job, mama," keeping her voice low, the girl trembled with excitement. "You did it. Exactly what you were supposed to...you did it. Since you have more mouths to feed than I do, I'll take what I've already butchered, and you can give the rest to your babies. Fair?"

A low, rumbling growl answered her. The young lady nodded.

"Okay. Just be patient, and I'll move back enough to let you eat."

Bending, she tugged the blade free, tucking it behind the wide leather strap of her belt, then grabbed the edge of the buckskin. Dragging it away from the lion, she kept her eyes on the cat, a calm, soft gaze. Reaching where the mare shifted in agitation, her hand closed over the reins in reassurance.

"Everyone just relax," she urged gently, soothing the horse. "We're alright."

Although the lion approached the carcass, she didn't begin eating until the girl was mounted with the butchered meat. Riding away, gray eyes looked back, watching as razor sharp fangs sank into the buck, ears laid back in contentment. Giggling, she shook her head. Animals were funny.

Deciding to go home the long way, she urged the mare up a series of forested ridges, climbing high into the alpine sloped before swinging southeast. Home was below her, nestled in a mountain valley between granite peaks and rough passes. The country was beautiful, but not as empty as she grown up believing. Some miles beyond the ridge were rich pastureland where a large outfit ran beef cattle. Over the last few months, she'd seen and heard the riders patrolling the borders of their range.

Always staying out of sight, she'd often watched them from afar, curious about her neighbors. Did they even know about her? If they did, would they think they could behave as Diggs had-?

"Howdy."

The low voice jerked her eyes up, a startled gasp leaving her lips. Rifle in hand, she'd lifted it, finger around the trigger before actually seeing who'd spoken. He stood motionless in the shade of an established aspen. Rounded shoulders, lean waist, with long legs, a low brimmed hat shaded his face. An empty coffee cup was in one hand, the other relaxed at his side.

Heart humping, her thoughts scattered in mild panic. Where had he come from?

"Easy, miss. I'm friendly."

"Then why're you sneaking around like a thief?" The accusation flew from her lips, startling him, but the stranger didn't get mad.

"I was havin' some coffee after catchin' forty winks in the shade. Been ridin' for three days."

"What for?"

"It's the job."

"Job?"

"Yeah," his grin was amused. "The thing that gets me money without the hemp necktie?"

"I know what a job is!" Irritated at herself for wanting to smile, she stiffened. "What job would you have that brings you out here? I've never seen you before."

"Don't reckon I seen you either, but I'm peaceable."

"Why're you on my land?" Sharp, her young voice wavered just a bit. Dark eyes carefully studied her, taking in her blood and sweat stained appearance, then the butchered carcass behind her.

"Didn't figure this was anybody's land."

"Well it is!" Fiercely she squared her shoulders. "I don't take to trespassers, and you-!"

"Pardon me, miss," his tone was gentle, the look in his eyes calm. "I ain't meanin' no disrespect to you, but you gotta get that burr out from under your saddle. I ain't set on harmin' you."

"Why're you here?" She repeated, relaxing slightly. His grin was amiable.

"Chasin' after ornery steers. You seen any?"

"No."

"I'd take it as a favor if you'd sorta push 'em back toward them hills yonder," he gestured with his thumb. "They're 33 Connected cows."

"Is that your brand?"

"I work for it." His response was friendly, as was the easy curl to the corners of his mouth, as though he was always ready to smile. "Foreman is really in charge, next to the boss. I just push cows around."

"Do they mind it?"

"What?" Quizzically staring at her, the stranger almost laughed, but the black mouth of the rifle kept it in check. "I don't reckon I've ever asked one its opinion."

"It's probably why they're hiding from you then." Pert and sharp, her features were set in firm disapproval. "Would you want to be found by someone who's going to force you to go where you don't want to? Maybe with a rope around your neck?"

"I reckon not," entertained by her, his rich tone softened. "With my thick skull, I gotta admit I never gave it much thought, miss."

"I suppose I am a little strange for thinking it, but the horses are always so-" stopping abruptly, she felt a hot flush paint across her face. What was she doing? He chuckled.

"Horses are the better of the two critters, miss, but that don't mean cattle ain't plenty smart. They can outfox any man who ain't dry behind the ears...and a few that are. They're notional, an' occasionally mighty opinionated. I guess that's why punchers use a rope, instead of tryin' to talk 'em into giving up."

Her smile was timid, with the beginning of hope. He seemed so nice- In a cold flash, she saw Roy standing there, leering at her, all of his kindness gone. She was sobbing on the ground, ravaged, humiliated- her good mood vanished like mist. Gray eyes turning to stone, they studied him with care.

"What's your name, mister?"

"Most call me Tyler."

"Do you know Leroy Diggs, Mister Tyler?" Keen eyes studied his features, watching them process the question. His head tilted slightly.

"I've heard the name, but never had the misfortune to meet him face to face."

"You say that like you know something about him."

"His reputation ain't a shiny one," voice dropping, the cowhand's features turned serious. "While he ain't on no wanted flyers, he ain't good comp'ny for any respectable folk. If'n you come across him, miss, you make no mistake. He's pure poison, an' I'd hate to think of what he might do. Stay sharp, an' don't you be trusting of him."

"I'll remember." Hatred seeped into her voice but she stuffed it back, shifting uneasily on the mare. Had Roy always been that way, then? Or only after she drove him off? Not that it mattered. He'd be dead if they ever met again. Slowly edging around where he stood, she abruptly reined in. "I'd count it as a sign of faith if you'd leave before I do. Mister Tyler."

"I wasn't figurin' to move until I got your say so." His grin was warm. "You look mighty comfortable with that rifle."

Flushing, she lowered the barrel, ashamed a having held it on him for so long. Nothing he'd said or done had been threatening in the least.

"No harm done, miss." He offered seeing her discomfort. Moving slowly toward a thick grove of trees she saw the horse he rode, and how well it'd blended with the shrubbery. That her mare hadn't alerted her was worrisome. From now on, she'd be more alert to her surroundings.

"We're a hoot an' a holler away if you're ever in a fix. Most might assume us just a bunch of saddle tramps, but we're good in a pinch."

Her smile was automatic although she was still uncertain of him. Tyler's manner and tone was comforting, something honest, genuine, and assuring about it. It was something her young heart had been missing all these years, but the experience with Roy Diggs had left her scarred. Wary.

"I'm grateful of the offer, Mister Tyler, but I'd take it kindly if you told your outfit not to ride through my land. Unless there's a real need for it."

"I'll pass the word along miss, with our pardon." Mounting up, she suddenly realized how tall he was, now that they were both on horses. Dark hair fell uncut to his shirt collar, eyes brimming with humor. Touching the brim of his hat, Tyler nodded at her.

"Good day, miss."

"Goodbye." She'd meant to sound final, but her natural grace and kindness lent her a vague wistfulness. The cowhand hesitated.

"It ain't none of my business, miss, but, are you alright out here by yourself?"

"Mister," cocking her head, she arched a brow. "I just shot myself a ten-point buck, butchered it, and aim to pack it back by myself. If I can do that, I can handle most anything that comes my way."

"I reckon you can at that. No offence." Touching the brim of his hat again, he touched heels to the flanks of his sorrel. They were gone with dull pounding of hooves, soon lost to sight amid the dense foliage of summer.

Staring after him, the girl mulled over the conversation, pursing her lips. They'd know of her now, which likely meant sooner or later they would find where she lived. Unless she was very, very careful. The vastness of the wilderness around her suddenly seemed too small.

"My girl," patting the mare's neck, she sighed. "I think we'll have to keep ourselves low for a while. He seemed nice, but, Roy was nice too...at first."

The thought stayed with her all the way to the cottage. Were all men like Leroy Diggs? Or was there something about her that made him think his actions were okay? Would other men feel that way too? Nagged by the idea she still lived under Roy's shadow, the girl's mood soured, and she went to bed without supper.

Late evening next day found her lounging by the waters of the pool, the last bits of sunlight on her bare skin. It had been sweltering, even the air stifling in the heat of the summer. She'd not left the yard until evening and had spent most of her time in the water. Rustling made her look up. Pushing to one elbow, her eyes widened as a smile tugged at her lips.

"Hi mama,"

Padding into sight was the cougar, body relaxed, tail flicking in that way cats had when comfortable. Coming slowly toward her, the cougar lowered her head, gingerly bumping the girl's shoulder with her forehead.

"It's good to see you too. Did you enjoy the venison? I'm sure it was plenty for you and your...babies..." breathing the word, she nearly held her breath as four kittens ambled into sight, eyes bright blue, shaggy coat covered in spots. Flopping down between her young and the girl, the cougar began to lick her paws. Keeping active eyes on her kittens, she only growled and snatched them away when they got too close to the girl.

"Oh...they're so adorable," wanting to laugh in delight, making certain to keep her teeth out of sight, the young woman eased to her side to be less threatening. As soon as she did the cougar was up, trotting over to bump her with a powerful nose. Giggling under her breath, she touched the stiff, smooth fur on the lion's shoulder.

"I'm so glad you trust me enough to show me your babies. They're beautiful. Just like you."

Something stung her leg but knowing better than to yelp, she grit her jaw, slowly looking down. One of the kittens was gnawing on her calf. Gently sitting up, she slid a hand toward the kitten under the lioness' watchful eye. Gingerly lifting the biting little thing, she turned it about to stare into a fuzzy, determined little face.

"You're going to be a handful." Tiny white teeth appeared as the kitten snarled. An instant later its mother was there, massive fangs closing gently over the scruff as it was lifted from the girl's hand. The message was clear. 'Don't touch.'

They didn't stay long, but the young woman was left with the feeling that she was a part of something here. Perhaps she didn't have the kind of family most folks would expect, but she had a place. She was accepted. She belonged. It put a smile on her face as she stood up, gathering her clothes.