Moos took a step toward him. “Lots of blacksmiths take pride in their work and want the quality to be known. To make sure their work is recognized, they press a little mark at the center curve of the horseshoe.”
Rick stood. “Guess it’d be asking too much to find all three with identifying marks.”
Sheriff climbed into his saddle. “Let’s follow this trail and see where it leads.”
They rode slowly to be certain they stayed with the right tracks.
Moose looked from right to left. “A lot of cattle have been moved along here recently. Probably more than Mrs. Dunn owned.”
Sheriff Haney pointed to the ground. “Watch for the two special sets of shoes. That’s the best way to stay with the right group of tracks.”
Bret wondered if the same bunch had rustled more cattle. He figured they were responsible for the initial disappearance of the Dunn herd and the shootings.
He caught up with the sheriff. “Anyone else reported missing cattle?”
“No, just the Dunn herd. I can’t see anyone else losing stock and not reporting as much to me. Of course, could be some from another county. Could be someone hasn’t checked his tally lately, but I believe most ranchers count at least once a month and some every week.”
Bret marveled at the rough terrain they rode. They passed deep ravines and steep trails but the cattle had been pushed along an easier—not to say easy—trail. He learned how many plants had barbs that clawed at his clothes.
He wished he’d had a pair of the leather chaps like Moose wore. By golly, he was getting him a pair of them before he rode after cattle again. Wondering if he’d gone crazy, he reminded himself he didn’t own a ranch.
His fascination with Charlotte Dunn caused him to forget she owed him nothing. He owed her and her children a lot. Not only had they saved his life, they’d been honest and hadn’t stolen his money.
Unless the four of them found the cattle today and recovered them, the Dunn family would be destitute. That blasted Winfield would be laughing and dancing a fine jig. Bret figured the man already thought of the Dunn land as his.
Ahead, Bret thought he saw a rim that indicated a canyon. The sheriff held up his arm. They all halted. He made a shushing motion and walked his horse slowly to the side.
Bret and his three companions dismounted and tied their horses’ reins to low hanging branches. The mounts were concealed by boulders and the grove of trees. Cautiously, Sheriff Haney made his way ahead. When the other three followed his lead, they were able to hide behind the protection of rocks and brush.
Below, cattle were in a box canyon. A flimsy fence blocked the animals’ escape. Three men were camped near the canyon entrance. One appeared to be sleeping while the other two sat near a small campfire with rifles nearby. A large coffeepot sat on a rock at the fire’s edge.
Moose signaled he’d get closer to the men’s camp. The ranch hand moved so silently he amazed Bret. Made him even prouder to know Moose.
From where they watched, they were aware of Moose’s progress and that he squatted on his heels to listen. For at least fifteen minutes Moose listened to the two rustlers talk while their buddy slept. Slowly Moose crept back to where the three of them waited.
He nodded toward the crooks and spoke barely above a whisper, “They’re waiting for new orders and expect someone anytime now. Until then, they’re supposed to wait here but they’re running out of provisions.”
Sheriff Haney nodded. “We’ll take turns keeping an eye on them. Moose, will you take first watch? I’ll relieve you in an hour.”
Bret passed out the sandwiches before Moose moved closer to the canyon rim. “None of them is the man who was with Winfield when he came to propose to Ch—Mrs. Dunn. The man that day was someone named Arp.”
Sheriff Haney looked aghast but kept his voice low, “You say Winfield proposed to her? She didn’t mention it.”
“You had to rush off because of the approaching storm. Winfield wanted her to marry him and send the two oldest children to boarding school right away. He said she could wait and send Jimmy a year from now. She was plenty mad at Winfield.”
The sheriff practically snorted. “He’s lucky she didn’t shoot him. Everyone with a lick of sense knows she loves those kids and plans for the ranch to go to Davie.”
Rick shook his head. “Naw, there’s a couple of old biddies in town who think she’ll send the kids packing because they’re her stepchildren. Some people have no brains.”
Whatever anyone thought, Bret knew Charlotte would never part with her children. He suspected anyone who tried to separate them would find himself facing a wildcat protecting her young. Apparently most people in the community respected and were loyal to Charlotte.
Bret sat on the flat portion of a boulder. In a few minutes it would be in the shade. Until then, the surface was hot enough to be uncomfortable. In spite of that, he settled down to eat lunch and wait.
Chapter Fifteen
After Charlotte had fed the children their lunch, she’d sent them to their rooms to play. Until she heard from the sheriff, she wasn’t letting them linger outside. Both dogs waited on the front porch and would alert her if a prowler was near. Knowing a good marksman with a rifle could pick someone off without being close enough to alert the dogs worried her.
She still wore her overalls. She wasn’t
