“She told you she’s knitting booties?”
“Why. . .no. Baby booties?”
Ryan averted his face, but this time, this close, the stain of red on his neck was very noticeable.
“Is she making them for someone?”
“Forget I said anything.” He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “Go on.”
She leaned forward to stroke the horse’s neck, her words coming fast. “Papa Don knows something about my father. There’s more to all this than we’re seeing, Ryan. I’m convinced of it. Marv said Tom Mahone wants me to write what he wants me to write. My father even suggested a few subjects for me to use for my articles. Then Papa Don seemed strange when I started talking about my father. And then Bobby came in, and your mother started warning Papa Don that someone was going to get hurt. They know something, but no one wants to tell the whole story.”
She blinked at the wetness that had gathered in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to cry. It seemed such a silly thing to do. Olivia swiped at the tears and gasped at the friction of her hand on the tender, sunburned skin. She felt a warm bundle against the back of her hand and realized Ryan was offering his kerchief. She blotted the wetness and choked on a garbled sob.
“I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Because you’re hurt and confused. That would be my best guess.”
She nodded at his assessment. When she faced him, her hat slid forward. He breached the distance between them and tilted it back on her head. His eyes smiled into hers. “Now could you say that all again a little slower?”
twenty-two
Ryan listened to Olivia and tried his best to connect the dots. He wondered if she realized how much her heart showed in her face. Even the hurt when she talked of her father’s remoteness.
He told Olivia what Dr. Herald had suggested. The simi-larities seemed too much to dismiss easily. “It’s like everyone is watching the bully, but no one wants to help.”
“Because they’re afraid,” Olivia said. Her voice was flat, resigned.
Ryan drew his mustang closer to the bay and reached across to touch the back of her hand. There was nothing he could offer in the way of comfort. Not until they knew more. “Let’s go see what my men have found.”
She nodded, and he withdrew, taking the reins and setting the pace. When Bobby came into view, the sheriff was with him. His small eyes were on Ryan as he drew closer. Ryan instantly disliked the man.
“Laxalt. Heard Martin’s son had come back.” He offered his hand. “Sheriff Bradley.”
Ryan shook his hand and kept his expression neutral. He turned as Olivia stopped her horse and slid to the ground unaided.
“Who’s this?” The sheriff jabbed a thumb Olivia’s direction.
“Olivia Sattler.”
“Sattler’s girl?”
“It’s not Sattler’s boy.” Ryan regretted the poke as soon as it left his mouth. No reason to rile the man. Bobby laughed and slapped his leg.
“Still the smart-mouthed kid I remember.”
Ryan couldn’t recall the man. He wondered if the sheriff’s memory was faulty or if he’d just given ear to the rumors about his character based on the past and formed his own opinion.
“What have you found, Sheriff?” Ryan pressed.
“Your man here says he found the fence cut and was going to talk to Hector about it. Being that this section of the fence borders your property, it means you’d better put that smart mouth to doing some explaining.”
Ryan had asked for that. He noted the myriad of hoofprints in the dust and weighed what he was seeing against what he wasn’t seeing. “Aren’t all our cattle bunched up for the drive, Bobby?”
“Just a few in this pasture. No more or less than last check.”
Ryan turned his attention to the sheriff and raised his brows. “Why would I cut my own fence?”
“You tell me. Throw off suspicion. Hector have something you want? Maybe you’re taking up where your daddy left off.”
Bobby exploded. “That’s a lie!”
Ryan raised his palm to soothe the foreman. “I can see where you’re taking this, Sheriff. This isn’t an investigation at all. You’re acting as judge and jury.”
“Makes perfect sense to me. You cut the fence then went to see Hector and did a little fist work on him. He’s not a young man, which means you’d have the advantage. Your foreman already said you were out here this morning.”
“You should look for someone with bruises on their face,” Olivia said. “Ryan doesn’t have a mark on him.”
“On his face, Miss Sattler. Doesn’t mean there aren’t marks elsewhere, unless you. . .”
A hard edge of indignation propelled Ryan forward. He gripped the man’s shirt and pulled him to his toes. “That was uncalled for, Sheriff. Miss Sattler is a lady, not that you would recognize one.”
He felt Olivia’s hand on his arm. “Ryan, let him go.”
“Not until he apologizes.”
The sheriff’s face went red. Bobby moved up behind the sheriff. “I think the boss is right. No reason to insult the lady. Seems you’re the one with the smart mouth.”
Sheriff Bradley’s eyes shifted to Olivia. “You have my apology.”
“Louder,” Ryan growled.
“You have my apology, Miss Sattler.”
Ryan let go and took a broad step back. “Why don’t you get on up to the cabin, Bradley? Sheriff’s no good if he can’t get the whole story before throwing insults and lynching an innocent man.”
Bradley’s scowl was ugly. “I’m telling you like I see it.”
“Then maybe you’d better open those little eyes of yours and take a closer look. One based on fact. Hector and I talked last night and heard a commotion among his cows. We were investigating this morning to make sure all was well.”
“Why did he need your help doing that?”
“He didn’t. I came because I wanted to see for myself if he had found anything. You can’t blame me for being cautious since my father was murdered.”
“Murdered,” Bradley spit. “That’s your word.”
“That’s all the word you need.”
❧
The tense group moved toward Hector Maiden’s house. They met Ty and Cody on the way back, and Bobby fell back with them. Olivia heard them whispering. No doubt Bobby was filling his men in on what had happened.
She rode close to Ryan, catching glimpses of him. She was worried that he might get caught in the middle of the mess.
“What if he’s not awake?”
Ryan’s chest lifted, and his breath exploded on the exhale. “Sheriff has his way, he’ll probably hang me.”
Olivia gripped the reins tighter in her right hand. “That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“What if Hector can’t remember anything?”
“Then I’m in big trouble unless we can figure out who did it. I don’t think our sheriff is going to be much help.”
“He doesn’t know that you did it.”
Ryan’s eyes went over her, and a lazy grin broke the solemnity of his expression. “You don’t know that I didn’t.”
She wanted to protest his statement, but a valid doubt niggled at her. She didn’t know. Or did she. . . “In my heart, I know you didn’t.”
Ryan took a kerchief from his pocket, rolled it, and tied it around his neck. “Appreciate that, Livy.”
twenty-three
Hector woke up as the afternoon faded to evening and a chill rent the heat of the day. Ryan sat at his bedside, opposite Sheriff Bradley. He’d sent the hands back to the Lazy L and had tried to get Olivia to head home, but she’d given him a stubborn look, complete with hands on hips and sunburned nose tilted to the ceiling. He’d retreated.
Hector’s bedroom was still redolent with the smell of the pork Olivia had fried up for supper when the man first showed signs of waking. Hector’s grimace of pain became a groan.
Sheriff Bradley got to his feet and lean
ed over him. “Hector? You hear me?”
Hector’s head moved back and forth against the thin pillow beneath his head.
Ryan went to the doorway, his footsteps alerting Olivia. “Hector needs a drink.”
She nodded, and he returned in time to hear the sheriff’s question.
“Who did this, Hector? We’re needing to know.”
“Take it easy,” Ryan warned. “Let him get his head about him. Miss Sattler’s getting a drink.”
“I’m the sheriff.” The older man scowled. “We’re doing this my way, Laxalt. I’m not having any hired gun tell me how to do my work. Don’t have any respect for a lawman who turns dark horse.” He leaned forward as Hector’s eyelids fluttered. “Hector?”
So he knew. Tension throbbed behind his eyes. He’d thought his reputation as a Ranger might help him; he should have known turning hired gun would erase all the good.
Ryan thought he heard a door shut. Feminine voices drifted to him. Ryan retraced his steps. He was surprised to see Phoebe huddled with Olivia. Phoebe saw him and waved him over.
“I came out here to warn you, Ryan. Sheriff Bradley is one of them.” Phoebe’s lips pursed as if she’d tasted something sour. “I had hoped you would leave town quick, but you haven’t, and we all agree it’s not fair for you to take up this fight alone, ignorant of the depth of the threat you’re facing.” She glanced between them. “Both of you.”
Ryan digested the information. He felt the light weight of Olivia’s hand on his arm.
“You’re talking about Papa Don and Mrs. Laxalt?” Olivia asked.
Phoebe’s eyes flashed. “There’s more of us. Many more. We’re all trying to band together, but they’ve got too much money and too many of the major players on their side.”
“Sattler?” Ryan asked.
“Bowman and Michaels. All three of them.” Phoebe nodded.
The weight of Olivia’s hand shifted as she tightened her hold and swayed toward him. Her expression was pale and pinched with stress.
Ryan drew her up against his side. She molded into him. Phoebe placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was so excited to have you come back, but not to this. I had hoped your presence might. . .” Phoebe glanced away, clearly distressed.
“Who else is involved?” Olivia asked.
“Doc’s on our side,” Ryan said.
She tilted her face to his. “He told you that?”
“Just about. But he was vague.”
Phoebe nodded. “We’re a cautious bunch for a reason.” She faced Olivia. “Tom Mahone is their puppet. He’ll say anything they want him to say.”
Olivia’s face turned into his shoulder, her words muffled. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I told you I was going to work for him?”
❧
Olivia jerked back from Ryan, the fire of temper consuming her weakness. “I thought you were my friend.”
Phoebe didn’t meet her eyes. “How do you tell the daughter of the territory’s biggest rancher that he’s leading a band of killers? I tried to hint to you, thinking maybe you would go to him and have a talk. That having you home would soften him up some.”
“He doesn’t have time to talk. Not about things that don’t matter to him.”
“I used to work for your daddy, back when he was a loving father. But. . .people change. And I’ve watched him change over the years. It’s as if the absence of your mother’s gentle influence opened the floodgates to vileness.”
Olivia shuddered with suppressed rage. “Did he kill Ryan’s father?”
“There’s no way to prove anything.” Phoebe brushed at her riding skirt. “They work like that. No witnesses. No warning. Their men do a lot of the dirty work, especially Skinny. It’s rumored that he’s a hired gun from up north.”
Questions sprang to her mind, but Olivia clamped down on the urge to ask them when Sheriff Bradley’s raised voice hollered from the bedroom. “I know you’re out there, Laxalt. Hector’s saying some mighty interesting things about that temper of yours. Says you’re good with your fists, too.”
Ryan’s inhale whispered in the silence. Olivia touched his shoulder, fearful of his reaction. “He’s baiting you. Go back to town with Phoebe. I’ll tell him you left. Send your mother over or Papa Don or Marv”—Olivia turned to Phoebe for help—“anyone who you know is on our side.”
At first she thought her pleadings had fallen on deaf ears. She felt the knot of Ryan’s muscles beneath her hand, and his dark eyes gleamed with anger then faded to frustration. Tension melted from his body.
“Ryan, listen to me. You can’t go in there alone.”
“She’s right, Mr. Laxalt,” Phoebe whispered. “Bradley will do whatever it takes to protect the big bosses. Even shoot you in cold blood.”
His eyes rested on Olivia. “My men can keep the sheriff company and be witness to what Hector really says. I’d rather have you with me.”
twenty-four
Ryan hated leaving, even knowing that Bobby, Cody, and Ty would do everything they could to keep Hector safe from the sheriff. His horse kept pace with Phoebe’s long-legged pinto and Olivia’s bay. On the edge of Maiden’s land, another rider moved out from behind a low hill and sat in their path. Ryan tensed, and his hand went to the scabbard that held his Marlin rifle. Phoebe glanced over at him and shook her head then waved at the man in their path. The stranger waved back.
Phoebe brought her horse up next to the man. Her mouth was moving before her horse had come to a full stop. “Ryan’s men are with Hector.”
Ryan worked his horse’s pace down to a walk and pulled up between the man and Olivia, keeping his side to the stranger and his hand near the leather sheath that held the gun. Just in case.
“You must be Martin’s son.” The man nodded. “I imagine your presence has put some knots in Bowman’s plans. Heard you were a Ranger.”
Ryan shrugged, feeling no need to explain beyond that for now. “Something like that.”
Phoebe turned to Olivia. Twin spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. “Jacob and I changed our minds. We’re going to get married.” She laughed.
“Bowman’s not too happy since the arrangement will give us more land,” Jacob added, sharing a smile with Phoebe. “But we don’t aim to make things easy.”
Ryan tried to take in all the information that was being dumped on him, setting up the people who were the main players and those who were merely the puppets. Olivia didn’t appear to be listening. Her eyes were on the ground as she unconsciously rubbed her horse’s neck.
“Did the sheriff make a scene?” Jacob asked Phoebe.
She nodded over at Ryan. “Tried to pin the whole thing on him.”
Ryan had a question of his own. “How did you know about Hector?”
“Word travels fast in a small town, Laxalt. Phoebe works at Landry’s, so she can keep her ears sharp for rumors and accusations that Bowman, Sattler, or Michaels might be trying to churn up. It’s how they’ve worked for years. Accuse the little man. Dispense with him and take over his property.”
“How’re they doing it? Setting up the scene? All those hoofprints. . .”
Jacob and Phoebe shared a look. Jacob shrugged. “Your pa was a good man. He saw what the big ranchers were trying to do, and he got vocal about it. Tried to figure out how they did it, too, but with the sheriff playing favorites, it’s not like they need much more than a few hoofprints and a cut fence.”
Phoebe guided her horse around his and over to Olivia. The two talked in low tones.
Jacob continued, “Him, Jon, and George tried to start their own paper arguing against the high price to register brands and the portable cabins the big ranchers are using to claim more property. George never had a chance. And there were threats against Jon. Anyone who stands in their way.”
“George was killed?”
“An easy target because he was far out and a widower. No witnesses. Same as Hector.” Jacob glanced toward the women and lowered his voice. “I kno
w Phoebe’s been awful worried about Miss Sattler.”
With all that had been revealed, Ryan knew Olivia must feel very much caught in the middle. Without her father, she had no family.
“Phoebe,” Jacob called. “Let’s get on into town. I think it’s a good time to bring them into the circle. Papa Don has gotten everyone together.”
Ryan tugged on the reins and fell back with Olivia. He wanted so much to reach out to her. He couldn’t guess what she must be feeling and thinking. Though she had suspected her father’s underhanded ways, to have them confirmed must be a terrible, heartbreaking shock.
He brought the mustang close to her mare and pulled his hat from her head. “Guess you don’t need this now that the sun’s not so high.”
She barely raised her eyes.
“Livy?”
Her chin jerked up, and he saw her emotions contained in the sheen hazing her eyes.
“Maybe things aren’t quite as bad as you think.”
She averted her face, and he could see the moisture skid a streak down her cheek. “It’s worse.”
He reached out and touched the back of the hand that rested on her leg. “Does that mean you regret coming back? Even if it means you wouldn’t have met a gentleman like myself?”
His try at humor fell short. She sniffed and pulled her hand away to wipe at her eyes. “I guess I just need some time.”
He let it go, acknowledging his bad timing in delivering such a line. He was content to ride in silence beside her and used the time to form the questions he still wanted to ask of Phoebe and Jacob. To his surprise, they skirted Main Street and came up behind the Occidental and the other buildings before dismounting at Landry’s. An outbuilding shielded them from any curious eyes that might be looking out of second-story windows. A man—or was it a boy? Ryan couldn’t tell in the darkness—claimed each of the horses and led them into the shelter.
Olivia was at his side, hugging herself. “It might be better if I didn’t go inside,” she whispered. “I’m the enemy.”
He clasped her hand in his and rubbed along her cold fingers with the pad of his thumb. “I won’t go in without you. Whoever’s in there must know you’ve been gone for so long there would be no way you could be a part of anything.”
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