Read Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) for Free Online Page A

light in her going-away card. “He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness … Live as children of light … Declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”
    She started the engine. “Okay, God, I’ll bury the dark—again. But you have to lead me to the light. It seems so far away.”
    ***
    Mike limped into the barn.
    Rusty, one of the ranch hands, was shoeing a horse in the first stall, his back to the mare’s rump. Her tail flicked across his shoulders as he bent over her hoof wedged between his knees.
    Mike wiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “Where’s Cyrus? I need to find him, fast.”
    Rusty dropped his hammer and spit horseshoe nails from the corner of his mouth into his palm. “Been swimming in a mud hole, Boss?”
    Tramp sat next to the farrier, an expectant look in his eyes.
    Rusty stroked the dog’s head.
    Mike grunted. “Something like that. You know where Cyrus is?”
    Tramp licked Rusty’s cheek.
    “Gee, thanks, Tramp.” Rusty looked at Mike. “Last I saw Cyrus, he was headed over to the office to talk to your mom.”
    “Oh, great.” Mike slammed his hat against the barn door. Dried mud dribbled off the rim, and a small dust cloud rose above it. He sneezed and was about to leave, when he felt Rusty’s stare.
    “Uh, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He put his hat back on. “It’s just that I’ve got a situation to talk to Cyrus about that might worry my mom.”
    “Anything I can do to help?”
    “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”
    Favoring his bruised leg, Mike left the barn and took off toward the log home he shared with his mother. The front section of the building housed the lobby and office, the back their living quarters. If he snuck in the back door, he could clean up before he went looking for Cyrus.
    Mike crammed his hands into his pockets. His mom would be upset that he’d ruined his dad’s pickup. She’d been so sad since he died. But he could get the truck fixed without her knowing what happened and pay for the repairs out of his account instead of using ranch funds. Cyrus would help him fix the fence—they had plenty of wire on hand—and the crazy morning would become a non-event, if the herd stayed put. Maybe next time he’d handle things better.
    Tramp crawled up the redwood steps of the deck to his water bowl.
    Mike slipped inside the screen door and blocked it with his heel to keep it from slamming shut. After it had quietly closed, he tiptoed across the dining room.
    “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”
    Mike jumped and turned. “Cyrus, you old coot, you scared me.”
    Cyrus Moore’s craggy face peered at him from the other end of the dining room table. “No wonder, the way you slithered in here slick as a gol durn sidewinder.”
    “Where’s Mom?”
    “Mrs. D … Laura … your mom ...” Cyrus scowled, wrinkles puckering his mouth. “Dad blast it, you know who I mean. She went to grab something in the office. She’ll be back pronto.”
    Mike glanced toward the hallway that linked the public and private parts of the building.
    “That a problem?”
    “It’s just that …”
    The door opened and his mom walked in holding a file folder. “Mike, what happened? You’re covered with dirt.”
    He looked at his jeans and boots. “Sorry about the mess. Should have taken off my boots. I’ll sweep the floor after I change.”
    Laura’s brow furrowed. “But what happened? You didn’t answer either radio, you weren’t in church, and you’ve been gone for hours. I’ve been worried.”
    “Just fell in a mud puddle, that’s all.” He moved toward the kitchen.
    “You’re limping.”
    He lifted a hand. “Got to get some water. Swallowing all that mud made me thirsty.”
    After a long drink of the cold well water, he leaned back against the counter and tried to sound casual. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting. I’ll get out of your way and go find some clean clothes.” He put the glass down. “When you’re