As always, the night before I’d rolled down the outer sleeve of my prosthetic leg, removed the liner, washed it, and hung it up to dry. I’d washed my residual limb, then put on a compression sock for the night, which helped reduce phantom pain. In the morning I reversed these steps, took a shower, and downed several cups of coffee.

I got as far as the door before returning to put on my glasses, then dropped the three rocks into my back pocket. They tugged my pants down. I shifted them to a front pocket where they did the same. What was Scott thinking? He could have given me three hankies. Three dollars. Three platinum credit cards. Now we’re talking. I finally put one rock per pocket. If I was going to have floppy pants and lumpy hips and rear, at least I’d have a fairly even sag.

A high-pitched buzzing and rank odor greeted me outside. I followed the sound and smell to the next cabin. Both dogs were fixated on something above them.

A very dead raccoon was wedged between the end logs of the cabin.

My stomach tightened, a jolt of acid burned the back of my throat, and my neck itched as if a thousand mosquitos had bitten me.

There was no way that critter could have ended up there on its own.

And if it hadn’t crawled up between the logs, then someone put it there.

Maybe. Raccoons were notoriously inquisitive creatures. And they were known for being host to many diseases, such as rabies and distemper.

My neck continued to itch.

*  *  *

Bram spent the night on the top bunk in the seasonal staff building. His roomies were a maintenance man from West Yellowstone, a dishwasher from St. Anthony, and an assistant horse wrangler from Cheyenne. The only name he could remember belonged to the dishwasher, whom they called Spuds. St. Anthony was in the middle of potato country.

The building had a shared living area in the middle, with the women’s quarters on the other side. Wyatt, Angela, and Cookie had their own private quarters in a separate building. Roy lived above the lodge.

Bram woke with Darby on his mind. What was it about her that stayed in his thoughts? Maybe because she’s the first attractive and interesting woman I’ve met in a long while. After finishing high school and graduating from the Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina, he’d done a stint in the navy, then sought out and been hired by the Fremont County Sheriff’s Department. Unfortunately, the number of available females in the county was limited. Extremely limited.

And his time was equally limited.