Of Wolves and Men by G. A. Hauser Page A

Roman wasn’t the wolf threatening the ranch, Charlie would be out trying catch him or scare him away.
    He wasn’t sure he blamed Butch for his actions. They were well intended.
    He tossed clean hay down on the floor of Spirit’s stall, filled his water bucket and then wheeled the dirty hay to a truck and dumped it.
    The other men were busy taking the horses out and brushing them, checking their shoes, and inspecting their condition before the tour groups arrived and they began a hike up into the hills.
    Charlie called to Spirit and approached him. The horse stood still as he took a hold of his halter and brought him back to saddle up. “You and me got to take a ride, fella.”
    He tossed his saddle on Spirit’s back and the bridle over his head. Once he was ready, Charlie swung his leg over the horse and sat tall. He waved to JP as he left. JP gave him a nod of his head, as if they both knew Charlie was going to see what Butch was up to.
    He rode directly up the trail to the area with the cut fence line. Sure enough the barbwire was tampered with. Hopping down from Spirit, Charlie inspected the cut marks, and could easily tell they were from a wire clipper. He repaired the small opening quickly and heard Spirit snort.
    Charlie took a look at him and noticed his head was turned, looking back, his ears perked up.
    “What is it?” Charlie stood, fixing his hat and tucking the tools back into the saddlebag.
    Hearing a noise, Charlie put his foot into the stirrup and mounted him, walking Spirit down an embankment to the reservoir. He spotted Scout standing idle, and Butch kneeling at the edge of the water, washing his hands. They were too far off to see well but Charlie thought it was odd.
    He began walking Spirit closer to have a conversation with Butch about him neglecting his duties back at the barn. The moment Butch heard them approach, he stood quickly, wiping his hands on his jeans, with an unreadable expression on his face. Charlie couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear.
    “Butch, what are you doin’?”
    “I found another cut up deer.”
    Charlie’s stomach knotted. “Where?”
    “There.” Butch pointed, climbing on Scout’s back.
    Suspicion began to invade Charlie’s thoughts. But he was going to give Butch the benefit of the doubt. He followed him. As he drew near, he could see a deer carcass, steam rising out of its opened entrails.
    Immediately Charlie knew. “Butch, please tell me you didn’t do this to prove some demented point.” He hopped off and could easily see the animal was just killed. It was still hot and bleeding, the cold air making it a mass of vapor trails waving in the breeze.
    “Me?” Even his denial appeared cliché.
    “Get down here.” Charlie pointed to the ground.
    Reluctantly Butch did.
    Charlie grabbed his arm and inspected the cuff of his jacket. It had blood all over it. “Why?
    Why did you have to do this, Butch?”
    Butch tugged his arm away. “I just wanted to prove to you we needed to do something.”
    “By faking this ritual thing?” Charlie pointed to the animal in disgust. “You do realize there’re trail rides today.” Charlie took out his cell phone. “I have to tell Vernon not to come near this area until we clean this up.”
    “Don’t tell him it was me.” Butch appeared threatening.
    “You’re jokin’, right?” Charlie shook his head and stared at the deer as the line connected.
    “Vernon, look, don’t bring them tourists up the west side.”
    “Why, Charlie? We got more trouble?”
    “Yeah. We do.” Charlie stared into Butch’s eyes. “I’ll tell ya later, boss.”
    “Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”
    Charlie shut off the phone and pocketed it. “ You’re goin’ to tell him.”
    “He’ll fire me.”
    “Yeah. He will.” Charlie said, “Tie it up and let’s take it out to the mountains. Ain’t no reason she needs to go to waste. Let the coyotes gnaw on her.” He knelt beside it. “Tell me you did not cut that animal’s