Thirty Nights with the Alpha King

Chapter 8: Crop Circles

When we are finally back at the ranch, the lights on the mesa have already disappeared. However, as we’re getting out of the truck, Nick’s eyes continue to flicker up suspiciously at the top of the ridge.

He holds me close to him as we approach the front door of the ranchhouse, his large hand pulling me tightly by the waist. It makes me feel safe and protected, and I already feel a sense of calm pushing away my anxiety.

“Tell your grandma that I’m sorry I kept you out late,” Nick apologizes, stopping right outside the door. I turn to face him, wondering if there is any way to salvage our date.

“I don’t mind,” I say with a small smile. “I usually find the nighttime to be quite romantic.”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing romantic about this ranch at night,” he replies, his expression darkening. “I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned. I really wanted everything to be perfect for you, Addy.”

“I know,” I say quickly. “But I really did have a good time, even if it ended in an unexpected adventure.”

The slightest hint of amusement reaches his eyes as he looks down at me. “You really are fearless, aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure I was very fearless back there, but I knew you’d protect me.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’ll always protect you.”

I’ve missed my chance to kiss him twice already; I’m not about to lose out again. I lean forward ever so slightly, tilting my chin up to invite him closer. This time the seriousness on his face completely melts into a soft look as he gazes down at me.

As he leans in, I close my eyes in anticipation, waiting for his lips to touch mine. I can feel his breath on my face, and my body is tense with excitement as I wait for us to finally take things to the next level.

Suddenly, I hear the door beside us creak open, and I practically jump out of my skin with fright.

“Oh!” my grandmother says, looking in between us. “I’m so sorry for interrupting! I was just getting worried because it was dark out.”

Thanks, Grandma. Just my freaking luck.

She turns awkwardly away from us, making her way back into the kitchen. I want to cover my face in embarrassment – I can’t believe my grandmother, of all people, interrupted our first kiss. How humiliating!

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Addy,” Nick says sheepishly, running his hands through his hair. He puts his cowboy hat back on and turns to walk down the porch.

“Good night, Nick,” I reply softly, and I feel tears of frustration pricking my vision.

Once I’m inside, I find my grandmother in the living room. As soon as she sees me, she gets to her feet from the sofa and walks quickly over to me.

“Addy, I’m so sorry!” she gushes. “I can’t believe I ruined your special moment!”

“It’s okay, Grandma,” I sigh. “Nothing happened.”

She looks at me pitifully, making me want to crawl into my bed even more. After the whirlwind of emotions in just the last hour, my body is starting to beg for rest.

“I’m going to turn in for the night, if that’s okay?” I say, making a start toward the staircase. She nods in understanding.

“Of course. Good night, my dear.”

***

The next morning, my body feels like I have sandbags for limbs. My bedroom is out of focus, and I even feel a wave of nausea. I know it’s my heightened emotional state that’s lending to this relapse, and I curse myself for it. I really wanted to spend time with Nick today.

Around lunchtime, I manage to make my way downstairs. My grandmother is in the living room, reading a book.

“Addy! Good, you’re up. Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” I say. “Do we have some ginger ale and some crackers? That’s all I’m really up for eating.”

“Sure,” she replies, her eyes twinkling in an excited way that throws me off. “Just head on into the kitchen. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay...” I respond, my voice trailing off in confusion. Why is she acting so happy that I feel nauseous?

But when I step into the kitchen, I notice a large vase filled with yellow, orange, and purple wildflowers, along with some baby’s breath. They all look like they’ve been picked by hand from around the ranch.

Did Grandma pick these? I wonder, as I notice a small, plain notecard sitting on the table beside the vase.

I pick it up and open it, seeing a note scribbled in masculine handwriting.

These flowers made me think of that time when you wanted to be a florist, even if that dream only lasted for a day.  ;)  Looking forward to date #2.  Are you busy tonight?  – Nick

A wide smile breaks across my face reading his note. I keep reading it over and over again. Leaning forward, I try to sniff the flowers, but I’m dismayed when I remember I’ve lost my sense of smell.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” I hear my grandmother say behind me. I look up as she crosses over to the table to gently touch one of the petals with her fingertips.

“They are,” I breathe.

“Are you going to go out with him again?”

“Yes!” I practically cry out.

I really need to reign in my enthusiasm.

She laughs, her eyes twinkling again.

“Your grandfather and I are expected at the neighbor’s for dinner tonight,” she says slowly. “Just a small gathering of ranchers in the area. So, we won’t be back until after dark.”

That’s all she says as she turns to head upstairs to her bedroom. The realization dawns on me that she’s giving subtle permission to have Nick over…unsupervised.

Damn, Grandma, I didn’t realize how cool you were.

Of course, they would be back as soon as it got dark, so it’s not like we would be getting up to much anyway, but it feels like a bit of an apology for last night’s interruption. I instantly begin to think of a simple meal I could make for the two of us for dinner. I need to make sure I don’t tire out too easily between getting ready and making a meal – I already feel fatigued enough as it is.

My thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sound of the porch door swinging open aggressively. I jump to find Nick standing in the doorway, and he’s heaving breathlessly and looking frantic. His brother, Matt, follows closely behind him, appearing equally panicked.

“Nick, are you guys okay?” I ask, my eyes widening at their arrival.

“Where’s your Grandpa?” he asks quickly, stepping into the kitchen and through into the living room in just a few quick strides.

“I think he’s upstairs with my grandma getting ready,” I answer quickly, following behind him and Matt into the living room.

“Mr. Byrne, are you up there?” Nick calls from the bottom of the stairs.

I immediately hear footsteps in the hallway above, and my grandfather appears at the top of the stairs, buttoning a nice shirt as he begins to descend.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, concern growing on his face.

“We’ve had another cattle mutilation,” Nick replies.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” my grandfather swears loudly.

“And that’s not all, sir,” Matt chimes in. “It’s sitting in the middle of a crop circle.”

My grandfather freezes on the stairs, staring at the two of them in utter disbelief. I hear myself gasp out loud, my hands flying to my mouth.

“Bob, did I just hear that right?” I hear my grandmother’s voice say. She appears at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with terror.

“That’s it, I’ve had it!” my grandfather yells, banging his fist on the banister. “Sheriff Callaway is at this meeting tonight, and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. This is harassment, I tell you! Avery is going to be sorry–"

“I’m not sure Avery did this, Mr. Byrne,” Nick says, lowering his eyes toward the floor. I think he’s just as afraid of my grandfather’s uncharacteristic display of anger as I am. “I drove by the same spot last night on my way back to our homestead, and I didn’t see anything there. Matt and I found it about an hour ago. I have no idea how a person could make a crop circle and mutilate a cow in under twelve hours without being detected.”

“Crop circles have been debunked as a hoax,” my grandfather explains impatiently, continuing his path down the stairs to join us in the living room. He begins pacing agitatedly. “They can come out and do it overnight.”

“Except that the grass is braided, like the blades of grass were woven like a basket, not stomped on with feet or machinery.”

“Braided?” my grandmother repeats, taken aback.

“Yes, ma’am,” Matt nods. “And the calf wasn’t mutilated like the other, older cows. This one’s insides were completely picked clean. The bones are completely bare, and there’s no sign of blood on the ground nearby.”

“They obviously had time to pick up the calf, slaughter and clean her, and then bring her back to drop the remains off,” my grandfather practically spits in fury.

“It was the calf that we tagged yesterday afternoon,” Nick says. “I can’t explain it, but I don’t think it was Avery.”

“Bullshit!” my grandfather bellows. “I’m going to bring Avery down and have the Sheriff launch a full investigation–”

“Bob, you don’t have any proof,” my grandmother protests.

“Ever since the summer started, he’s been getting even more brazen!” he yells back up to her. “At this rate, we won’t have any cattle left by Labor Day! We can’t keep hemorrhaging money like this. I’m getting too old for this s**t. If Avery doesn’t stop, we’ll have to sell the ranch–”

“Please, don’t do that, Mr. Byrne!” Nick shouts, making everyone in the room turn to stare at him.

“Nick, son, I’m sure a new owner would keep you all on as caretakers,” my grandfather says, his expression softening.

“Please, don’t sell the ranch,” Nick begs, and I see a look of desperation in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “This ranch is our home. We can’t live anywhere else. We’ll monitor the fence line day and night if we have to. Just…please don’t give up.”

My grandfather studies him for a moment, breathing out a long sigh.

“I’ll talk to the sheriff at tonight’s meeting,” he concedes. “Maybe some of the other ranchers have dealt with similar incidents and have some leads.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nick says, his voice full of relief.

“Winona, go get dressed. I want to head out now so I can get there before Avery does and ask around.”

My grandmother rushes back into her bedroom while my grandfather sits down to pull his boots on.

“Grandpa, do you want a snack for the road?” I ask. “It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Sure, Addy, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he replies, giving me a half smile. I can see the worry on his weathered face, and I want to do everything I can to take some of the stress of losing the ranch away from him.

“Nick, Matt, would you guys like anything?” I offer, turning to look at them.

“Sure!” Matt says enthusiastically.

“I’ll help,” Nick offers, following me into the kitchen. As much as I’m glad to be alone with him, the atmosphere in the house is quite tense.

“Lunch meat sandwiches?” I ask him.

“Sure,” he nods, stepping to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “What can I do to help? Put me to work.”

He’s obviously desperate to keep his hands busy, so I task him with spreading mayonnaise on bread while I clean some grapes.

“I want to see it,” I say suddenly.

“The crop circle?” Nick asks astonishedly. “Absolutely not.”

“I can handle it,” I say defiantly. “I saw the last cattle mutilation.”

“Addy, this one is different,” he states darkly. “It’s really gruesome. I don’t want you anywhere near it.”

“Then take me to the top of the ridge,” I say, trying to compromise. “So we can get a good look at it from above.”

“Fine,” Nick concedes. “We were going to head up there after talking to your grandpa anyway, so we can see if the pattern has any clues as to who is behind this.”

“We’re heading out now!” I hear my grandmother say. Both my grandparents appear in the kitchen, and I hand them little baggies of sandwiches and grapes for the road.

“I love you,” I say, giving them each a swift hug, hoping that it offers a little bit of comfort. My grandmother smiles at me warmly.

“Thank you, my dear,” she says. “I love you too.”

I watch from the window as they make their way down to the truck and off down the road.

“Now that they’re gone, let’s head up to the mesa,” I say to Nick.

Nick and Matt sit in the front seat of Nick’s truck, with me in the small backseat behind them. We make our way up the steep dirt road to the top of the ridge, where Nick pulls over and we all climb out hastily.

Nick is the first one to the edge, where he freezes mid-step as he looks at the ranch below.

“What is it, Nick?” I ask, as Matt and I approach from behind.

He says nothing, continuing to stare downwards, and I come up to his side to join him.

As soon as I see what he’s seeing, I feel grateful that I haven’t eaten lunch yet, since I worry that I would have thrown up the entire contents of my stomach if I had. I’m unable to make out the details of the cattle mutilation, but what my eyes are drawn to is to the pattern surrounding it, made in the grass.

A pentagram. The devil’s symbol.