It was an old house in need of a coat of paint with a brand new, freshly painted sign affixed to the porch railing. Office Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary It was the kind of incongruence that automatically drew his eye and raised the hackles he’d been working hard to tame. He was back in the States, for God’s sake. South Dakota. Land of the granite chiefs and home of the original braves. Just because something was a little off in a place that seemed too quiet didn’t mean Cougar needed to crouch and prepare to pounce. He was there on a tip from a fellow soldier. About the only people he trusted these days were guys he’d served with, and Sergeant Mary Tutan was one of the most standup “guys” he knew. She couldn’t pull rank on him anymore, but she’d tracked him down, got him on the phone and talked like she could. Get your ass in gear, soldier! Go check out the wild horse training competition my friend Sally Drexler is running. It’s just what the VA docs ordered. She’d corrected herself—Sally Night Horse—and explained that Sally had married an Indian guy.
