Tap the Hard Rock
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Chapter 2
“I’ll be hog-tied!” Brad Garry said abscently, whistling softly. “Real prickly sort.” He slowed Tango, angling down and across the dry wash, leaving the ridge line and solitary woman behind. “Sure wasn’t too happy. Pretty though, if you like the pissed off arrogant sort.” He scowled momentarily, wondering why she had been so unfriendly.” They turned south and he spotted her footprints in the dust. “Stacked, and not hard on the eyes,” he told Tango, keeping to the wash, bringing his stud to a canter. After a couple hundred yards, he turned the stud east, urging Tango up a ravine that topped out on a dusty flat. He drew rein, giving the horse a breather, his thoughts drawn back to the woman.
“Bonnie. Call me Ms. McWilliam!” He said, chuckling, shaking his head. “Sure enough steamed ‘bout somethin’ ‘sides me,” he drawled, leaning forward to pat Tango. The horse flicked back his ears. “Maybe because I caught her by surprise?” He grinned, remembering how she had tripped and landed on her ass in the dust. She was lithe, rebounding without apparent hurt. “At first, I think she was more concerned about the dirt on her fancy jeans than her prickly dignity.”
He nudged Tango across the flat, then slowed several hundred yards from an access road, stopping the big horse. Thoughts refused to focus on business or the widow Franklin. Once again, he found himself distracted, photographic memory replaying vivid images of Bonnie McWilliam. “Nice lean body. Those big bouncy hooters sure draw the eye.” As though in agreement, Tango snorted.
Brad searched the northern horizon, guessing it would be a while before the heavy-duty mechanic would arrive to deal with Bonnie Ms. McWilliam’s drill rig.
Brad Garry shook his head. ‘She must have a streak of Scottish. Not just that name. Seven hundred a day more and her project would have been completed. Might even have brought in water. Odd that she didn’t want me to know she’s also looking for rare earth mineral deposits.’ He thought, shrugging. ‘No matter. It’s her land, and she has all the rights sewn up tight.’ That thought brought on a scowl. ‘Sure as hell she might get lucky and find some worth mining! Hope she doesn’t start a strip mining operation. Don’t want the countryside scarred that way.’
The image of her landing in the only hollow of dusty alkali and dirt amid desiccated bunchgrass evoked something between a smile and grin. From what he had seen in her flashing eyes, more than his abrupt appearance and looks had upset the woman. He considered, then muttered, “likely got pissed at Donell’s crew. Worthless trash,” he said, reaching to pat Tango’s neck. “At least she appreciated you, hey boy? I think she has an eye for horse flesh. Certainly not for the likes of me.” Tango flicked ears and snorted.
“She’s tall, lean and mean,” he said to the horse. “Likely a lot more pretty if she wasn’t scowling.” Without effort, he recalled every detail of her unblemished, symmetrical features.
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