One Brave Cowboy. Kathleen Eagle

Cougar’s mother had been Lakota, but he was enrolled with the Shoshone, his father’s people. Cougar hadn’t met Logan until he’d knocked on the Wolf Track door the previous night. Sergeant Mary Tutan Wolf Track was the person they had in common. A white woman, strangely enough.

      Or maybe it wasn’t that strange. Indian country was more open these days than ever before, what with the casinos and educational programs that opened up opportunities for people on both sides of what had long been an unchallenged fence. But before these changes and beyond Indian country, there had been the military. Cougar’s people had been serving in ever-increasing numbers for generations.

      Cougar had been an army police officer—an MP—and Mary had been a dog handler. She’d served as a trainer—most recently in Afghanistan—and as far as Cougar was concerned she was the best trainer in uniform. She’d paid him a visit in the hospital in Kandahar, and she’d written to him after he was transferred stateside. More recently, they’d spoken by phone. Their mutual interest in training animals had given her something cheerful to talk about, and when Mary had talked up the wild horse training competition, she had his full attention. She’d planted an idea that had pulled him out of the seclusion he’d sought after his release from a VA hospital.

      Cougar was glad to see Logan’s pickup parked in his driveway. It wasn’t home—Cougar towed his house around with him these days—but Logan Wolf Track was the kind of guy who made you feel at home. Fellow Indian, fellow cowboy, husband of a fellow soldier. Logan opened the door before Cougar’s knuckles hit the wood.

      “Did you get signed up?” Logan asked as he handed Cougar a welcoming cup of coffee.

      “Not yet.” Cougar settled in the kitchen chair Logan offered with a gesture. “The boss was out.”

      “Nobody around?” He said it like such a thing never happened.

      “There was a woman. A volunteer, she said. And her kid.” Cougar took a sip of kick-ass and cut-to-the-chase coffee. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I almost ran over the kid.”

      Logan let the quiet take over, leaving Cougar to take his time, sort though the images. They were jumpy, like an old silent movie, until he came to the woman. Her face was clear in his mind, and her voice poured over the images like slow dance music.

      “He’s okay,” Cougar said. “Came out of nowhere, but I hit the brakes in time. Scared the hell out of me, and I think I scared the hell out of his mom. The kid…” He shook his head. “Hell, he didn’t seem to notice. Can’t talk, can’t hear and he’s half blind. I didn’t see him.” Another sip of coffee fortified him. “Damn, that was close.”

      Logan put a plate of frybread on the table and took a seat across from his guest. “Your pickup sits up pretty high.”

      Cougar nodded. “I gotta get rid of those monster tires. My little brother had the truck while I was gone, and he thought he was doing me a favor tricking it out like that. Coming home present, you know?”

      “How do they ride?”

      “Like saddling up a plow horse. Somehow I gotta tell Eddie the monster truck days are behind me.”

      “That’s hard. A gift is a gift.”

      “And the monster truck was a kid’s dream.” Cougar lifted his cup. “Good coffee. Tastes like Green Beans. Honor first, coffee second,” he recited, paying tribute to one of the few things he missed about being deployed in the Middle East.

      Logan smiled. “You and Mary were in the same outfit?”

      “No, but she worked pretty closely with us. She’s a real specialist. I’m the guy nobody invites to the party.”

      “But when the party turns ugly, it’s the guy with MP on his sleeve who kicks ass in a good way.”

      “That’s what we’re all about. I’ve kicked a lot of ass.” He helped himself to a piece of frybread. “You’ve been over there?”

      “Gulf War.” Logan claimed a piece of frybread and tore it in half. “I was a kid when I went over there. Came back desperate to find some kind of normal. I found myself a hot woman and married up. She cooled off real fast. Took off and left me with her two boys. Who became my two boys.” He took a bite out of the chewy deep-fried bread. “Did Mary tell you we’re gonna have a baby?”

      “Already?”

      “Hell, yeah. You know what else? Normal’s the name of a town somewhere. Who needs Normal when you’ve got Sinte, South Dakota? Or… Wyoming, right? Where in Wyoming? You probably—”

      “I probably didn’t say. Right now it’s wherever I park my outfit.” He nodded toward the front door. “Room to haul two horses and sleep two people.”

      “What else does a guy need?” Logan asked with a grin.

      “Not much.” Cougar gazed out the patio door and past the deck toward Logan’s corrals and pole barn. It wasn’t a fancy setup, but it was trim and orderly. “My brother and I have some land west of Fort Washakie. We own a quarter section, and we leased some grazing land, but he gave up the lease while I was gone.” He lifted a shoulder. “Can’t blame him. I was gone.”

      “Were you running cattle?”

      “I had horses. Eddie had to sell them.” But that wasn’t what he wanted to think about right now. He turned back to his new friend. “You know the people over at the Double D pretty well?”

      “I know Sally. She and Mary have been friends a long time. Hell of a woman, that Sally Night Horse. She has multiple sclerosis, but she doesn’t let it slow her down much.” Logan offered a knowing look. “She has a lot of volunteers coming in to help. What’s the name of the woman you met?”

      “Celia Banyon. The boy’s name is Mark.”

      “Oh, sure. Celia’s a teacher.” Logan smiled. “Pretty little thing.”

      “Pretty enough.” Logan’s smile was slightly irritating, but Cougar caught himself half smiling, too.

      “Careful,” Logan said. “You crack your face, you’re gonna feel it.”

      Cougar laughed. “Ouch. Damn, that smarts.”

      “It looks good on you. Like you said, no harm done. Shake it off, cowboy.” Logan warmed up Cougar’s coffee with a refill. “What kind of horse are you looking for?”

      “A war pony. One that can go all day without complaining.”

      “You do know it’s a contest.”

      “Mary said you can train the horse for anything you want.”

      “You have to turn out a useful horse. Not much call for war ponies these days.”

      “That’s what I’m calling for. A war pony prospect.” Cougar leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs under the table. “I did some endurance racing before I enlisted. Mustangs and Arabs are the best mounts for endurance, far as I’m concerned.”

      “That’s how you’d prove your horse?”

      “If they’re pretty open on what you can train the horse for, I don’t see why not. Endurance is a good sport. Good for the horse, great for the rider. From what I’ve read, it’s even more popular than it was back when I tried it out. You think I can get approved to train a war pony?”

      “I think you’d round out Sally’s contestant collection pretty nicely.” Logan grinned. “Especially now that I’m out of it.”

      “She needs an Indian replacement?”

      “Indian cowboy.” Logan chuckled. “Talk about your dying breeds, huh? Cowboys are scarce enough, but us Indian cowboys…”

      “Why’d you take yourself out?”

      “The horses will be auctioned off after the