night.
‘‘That fact could be the death of me,’’ Cheyenne moaned. ‘‘If I have to stay cooped up with her another day, she’ll drive me to drink. You’ve got to find her a husband fast, Win. Some good man who would take her away and teach her about being a lady.’’
Winter lowered his hat against the sun. ‘‘True, but it doesn’t look good when I’m heading to her most likely choice, and I’m not planning a social visit.’’ He told Cheyenne about Kora putting a few pieces together that they hadn’t thought about.
‘‘Too bad the man in the Breaks Settlement died before he could tell us anything.’’ Cheyenne swore as he tried to find a comfortable position on the pillow. ‘‘Kora’s guesses are a long shot, but it seems to be the only lead we have at present.’’
An hour later both men were standing in front of Wyatt as he dealt solitaire to an empty table. Cheyenne had left his crutch in the buggy, refusing to use it in town.
‘‘Morning, gentlemen. It’s a little early for a game, but I’m ready if you are.’’ Wyatt’s gaze darted between the men in a nervous action, though his smile was friendly.
Winter sat on one side of him, Cheyenne the other.
‘‘Morning, Wyatt.’’ Winter waved the bartender to bring a few drinks. ‘‘We didn’t come to play cards.’’ His voice was casual and low, letting the few people in the saloon think that the three men were merely passing the time of day.
‘‘We’d like to talk to you alone,’’ Winter said as he downed his drink and waited for the bartender to walk away. ‘‘How about the back room?’’
The gambler did the unthinkable in his business. He dropped a card. ‘‘All right,’’ he said slowly. ‘‘I’ll have Charlie bring us another drink.’’
‘‘Don’t bother,’’ Winter said as he watched Wyatt stand. ‘‘This isn’t a social call.’’
They walked to the back room and Winter closed the door. Cheyenne moved in front of it, as always, the guard.
‘‘What’s this about, gentlemen? If it’s about Jamie, I assure you I’ve never-’’
‘‘It’s not about Jamie,’’ Winter interrupted.
Wyatt took a breath. ‘‘I’m glad. I think a lot of the girl, but I said from the first I’m not the marrying kind.’’
‘‘I’d like to take a look at that shoulder of yours, gambler.’’ Winter moved toward the smaller man.
‘‘I appreciate your concern, but it’s fine. I’ve had the doc look at it a few times.’’
‘‘Take off your shirt!’’ Winter ordered.
‘‘Now, wait just a minute. You may think you can boss everyone around, but I don’t work for you.’’
Winter thought of fighting the man. He could have used the release from all the tension he’d felt lately, but in truth, he liked Wyatt despite the man’s poor taste in women and obvious dishonesty. He might be short on character, but his personality made him easy to tolerate at least. Also, both Kora and Jamie would be fighting mad if he beat the man up and the poor gambler turned out to be innocent.
‘‘You can show me now, or after I get the sheriff.’’ Win waited. ‘‘He might be interested in knowing the time you received your injury.’’
Frustrated, Wyatt pulled his string tie and unbuttoned his collar, then his shirt. ‘‘All right. I don’t see what the fuss is about. It’s only a scar. And as for the sheriff, he already knows about it.’’
Cheyenne and Winter watched as Wyatt turned his shoulder to them. True to his word, a scar still red from healing dotted his shoulder. Both men had seen enough bullet wounds to know one.
‘‘How’d you get that?’’ Win asked.
‘‘I was shot,’’ Wyatt answered, frustrated at having to explain the obvious. ‘‘The same day Cheyenne was. That’s why I was in the doc’s office the night your men came to get him.’’
Wyatt was being too straightforward to be lying, even for a gambler, Win guessed. ‘‘Who shot you?’’
‘‘Hell if I know. Some farmer who bet away all his money, I guess. I tried to find out, but it was only a scratch compared to Cheyenne’s. Plus, the sheriff had all he could handle with the blockade trouble without worrying about a gambler who got nicked.’’
Win glanced at Cheyenne, then back at Wyatt. ‘‘Sorry to have bothered you, but we’re checking out every man in the county who’s been shot lately to see if they’re related in some way. No offense.’’
Wyatt buttoned up his shirt. ‘‘None taken. I guess if I was in your shoes, I’d be turning over every rock I thought might lead me somewhere.’’ He walked toward the door, then turned back to Winter. ‘‘But think about it, Mr. McQuillen, if I were going to shoot you, I’ve had plenty of chances. And if I was one of the men running the blockade, you’d be my first target. Take you out of the fight and the other ranchers will fall like dominoes.’’ Wyatt flashed his teeth. ‘‘If I were you, Mr. McQuillen, I’d watch my back. And the next time I’d shoot all three riders in black, not just two.’’
He walked out of the room.
Cheyenne lowered his voice. ‘‘You never mentioned you thought he might have shot at you.’’
‘‘No,’’ Winter answered. ‘‘And I don’t remember telling him I shot a second ambusher that day you were hit.’’
‘‘Think he’s one of the black riders?’’
‘‘He might be. Or he might just have overheard folks talking,’’ Winter answered. ‘‘Let’s keep him close a few days so we can keep an eye on him. He might be spying. What better disguise than being a gambler with no interest in cattle? And Jamie gives him an excuse to come out to the ranch.’’
Cheyenne nodded. ‘‘If he’s a snake, we’re bound to hear the rattler eventually.’’
On their way out of the saloon, Winter stopped and apologized once more for inconveniencing Wyatt. Then he casually invited the gambler to dinner. When Wyatt accepted, Win added an invitation to spend the night on the ranch.
When the gambler took the bait, Win knew the ante raised and what was at stake came to far more than money. His ranch-his life-was on the line.
TWENTY
THE SKY TURNED DARK WITH BOILING CLOUDS ALONG the horizon as Winter rode home on a borrowed horse behind the buggy he’d driven to town. They’d spent far longer in town than he’d planned and accomplished nothing. The sheriff couldn’t remember talking to Wyatt the night Cheyenne had been shot. After waiting on the doc for hours, he’d been able to shed little light on Wyatt’s injury. He also reported hearing the man at Breaks Settlement mumbling about gunfire, but the doc said his words didn’t make any sense. Mixed in with the screams of being shot was talk of a woman whose aim was deadly. The only woman there that day, Win told the doc, had been Kora, and she hadn’t carried a gun. The dying man must have been mixing nightmares.
Winter was beginning to think he was on the wrong track accusing the gambler. It appeared Wyatt knew nothing and Winter’s only lead was dead. But it wouldn’t hurt to keep Wyatt close a few days and watch his behavior. If the cattlemen were moving a herd north, they’d do it soon. The weather was right and market prices high. If the gambler was involved, they wouldn’t have long to wait.
Winter could hear Wyatt spinning some long tale to Cheyenne as the two rode side by side in the buggy. Winter smiled. Men who talked a lot eventually said too much.
Kicking his horse, Win pulled beside the buggy. ‘‘We’ll be lucky to make it in before the rain.’’ He was ready to be home, and he imagined Cheyenne was tired of the chatter.
Wyatt slapped the horses into a trot, and Cheyenne swore in pain. They managed to reach the barn just as huge raindrops fell, turning the dry, tan earth to a dark brown.
Winter waved the gambler and Cheyenne inside and took the buggy along with his horse to the barn. He took his time unsaddling the horse and brushing down the animals, not because they needed extra care, but because it was one way he could delay before going in the house. Being home was one thing, facing Kora was another.
He’d racked his brain all day and was no closer to thinking of what he should say to Kora. He’d gone from
