The program halted and asked for input.
“What feckin’ input?” Ailbe groused aloud to himself as he tried to key in a sequence. The program aborted, and he started over. He tried again and again, always with the same result.
By noon, he figured out the problem. “Feckin’ Sterling did something he'll soon regret,” he muttered.
Ailbe picked up the phone and called Declan. “We need to drive to Westport County and find those Sterlings. Wyl did something to halt the program, and I need him so I can succeed.”
“If you want him, you need Rod,” Declan said.
“Then we’ll feckin take Rod!” Ailbe shouted. “Meet me at home in 15 minutes.”
* * *
Saturday morning, Rod and Wyl drove up to the Carrowholly Stables. They familiarized themselves with two fine horses and the Mulranny Mountain Trail. As experienced horsemen, they didn’t need the guidance offered to regular tourists, so they set out on their own to enjoy the views and nature.
“This is quite different from our ranch,” Rod said as they rode and took in the lush, green Irish countryside.
“I like it when you say our ranch,” Wyl said.
“Well, it is our ranch.”
“Yes, but I remember how owning half a ranch intimidated you.”
“It’s a good thing you dragged me kicking and screaming onto the ranch and made me accept my half.”
“The only kicking and screaming I recall is when you didn’t want to come back to the ranch with me after I forced myself into your home to apologize.” Wyl laughed.
“And you came and got your man.”
“Because my brother ordered me to.”
“During our blackout, marriage never crossed my mind.” Rod’s hazel eyes sparkled at Wyl.
“I thought of you as my husband even before our marriage,” Wyl said.
“I’m glad,” Rod said.
Mid-afternoon, Wyl’s horse faltered and began favoring one hoof. Wyl tugged the reins to stop the steed. “I need to check his hooves for stones.”
“Okay,” Rod pointed. “I’ll ride over to that bluff and grab a few shots of the Atlantic coast.”
Wyl nodded. “I’ll join you in a minute.” He dismounted. “Don’t wander too far.”
Rod shook his head and rode ahead while Wyl lifted the horse’s hoof and removed the small stone, careful not to injure the horse. He saddled up and galloped on to join Rod.
Rod’s horse stood near the bluff. He rode over and dismounted, thinking it strange Rod didn’t tie his horse to a nearby tree before heading to the bluff. Wyl scarcely glanced at the magnificent view overlooking the ocean. He must find Rod.
“Rod,” he called in a loud voice. “Rod!” he yelled, hoping his husband would appear. Nothing.
He pulled out his cell phone to call Rod. No service. He grabbed the reins of Rod’s horse and mounted his own steed. He rode back and forth along the bluff, shouting for Rod but getting no response. After half an hour of searching, he galloped toward their starting point.
As he returned the horses, he pulled out his cell phone and called Rod. The person you have called is out of range or has powered off the phone. He grumbled as he stabbed at the screen to disconnect that call. He scrolled through his contacts to find General Steinburg and jabbed the screen to call.
“Steinburg,” the General answered.
“I think they kidnapped Rod.” His breath came in gasps, and his heart pounded.
“Where are you,” General Steinburg asked.
“Carrowholly Stables in County Westport,” Wyl said. “We took a weekend horseback ride. A stone lodged in one of my horse’s hooves, so I stopped to remove it while Rod rode on ahead. When I got to his location I found his riderless horse, but no Rod.” Wyl realized his panic resulted in shouting.
“Wyl…calm down. We’ll locate him. I'll call Commissioner Kane. He’ll mobilize Garda and find Rod.”
“Thanks, General Steinburg. I’ll work with my locals on things from this end.”
“Keep me posted, Wyl.”
“Yes, sir, General.” Wyl disconnected and raced to the Carrowholly office to check out.
* * *
“Glenn Cross.”
“Glenn, Wyl Sterling. I think they took Rod.”
“Wyl, who are they?”
“It must be Ailbe and Declan. We took a horseback ride in Westport County, and Rod disappeared.”
