She sent the boys to sleep in their bed since the men were likely to be out all night.
Davie protested, “Mama, I promised Bret I’d take care of everyone while he and Moose are gone. I need to stay up.”
“You’ll have Buster and Billy to alert you if we have prowlers. Then you can come get me and we’ll deal with them together.”
Reluctantly, Davie and Jimmy went to bed in their room.
She paced for a while but so much had happened recently that she was emotionally and physically exhausted. She decided to try and sleep since the dogs were quiet. In case they had a prowler return, she went to bed wearing her clothes. Sleep evaded her and visions of cattle stampeding and of gun battles filled her head.
Lying in the bed where Bret had slept last night created fantasies of her being in his arms. The thoughts brought a rush of longing that surprised her. She didn’t think of herself as a passionate woman yet she yearned for Bret. Did that make her as bad as the accusations of those women in town?
Intimate relations with Ike were not the special event she read of in novels or heard talked about by married friends. He was almost as rushed and brusque in bed as he was the rest of the time. Was it any wonder she daydreamed about Bret?
In paying off the mortgage Bret had been beyond kind. He was gentle and caring. As he’d said, she admitted that she and the children had saved his life. Surely anyone else would have done the same. They hadn’t expected anything in return. Of course, he knew that.
***
Bret and his three companions rode hard until they drew within a half mile of where the cattle had been held and hopefully where they waited still. Then they slowed to a walk. Sheriff Haney led the way and they tied their mounts in the same small grove of post oaks and brush as they had the last time.
Bret tried to imitate Moose and move silently. The four of them crept into a good spot for surveillance. Below, the three men they’d watched before appeared to be breaking camp. Arp and another man assisted them.
Sheriff Haney whispered to Moose. Moose glanced at Bret then made his way down the ridge.
Curious, Bret went over to the sheriff. “Is he coming back up here or are we going down there?”
“He moves quietest of any man I ever saw. He’s coming back up as soon as he hears anything worth sharing.”
Bret worried about the look Moose had sent him. Was it a warning? Bret sure didn’t want to get caught in a double-cross. He hadn’t forgotten what Moose had said about the sheriff being a tough customer back in Missouri.
Bret felt out of his depth here. He was a good shot but he wasn’t a gunman. He shot clay disks. Until the other night in the bunkhouse he’d never been in a gunfight. He didn’t have a fast draw and hoped he’d never again have to shoot at a person.
He tried to keep Rick and the sheriff in view while he watched Moose and the rustlers. If the sheriff planned a double-cross, was Rick in with him? Moose was in a dangerous place, caught between the sheriff and the deputy above and the rustlers below.
Finally, Moose made his way back to where he and the other two waited.
When the four of them got together, Moose said, “They’re gonna move the cattle to the back of Winfield’s ranch. Sounds like there’s a valley similar to this one but with more grass.”
Sheriff Haney asked, “Is Winfield coming here?”
Moose shook his head. “He’s in town playing cards. Gives him an alibi. Either Arp doesn’t realize he’s been set up to take the blame or he has confidence in Winfield.”
The sheriff cursed. “I wanted that man here so we could catch him in the act. Well, I say we let them get the cattle to Winfield’s land then arrest these men and take them to jail.”
Rick nodded. “One of the five is bound to break and talk, hoping to save his neck.”
They watched the five drive the cattle out of the canyon and along the trail toward Winfield’s ranch. Seemed a shame to Bret that they couldn’t turn them toward Charlotte’s ranch where they belonged. He wondered if the first cattle that were rustled were somewhere on Winfield’s land.
Once the cattle were on the move, the sheriff signaled to wait in the trees. “Gonna take them half the night to get those beeves where they want them. We might as well eat the food Mrs. Dunn sent.”
While they were eating, Bret sat next to the sheriff. “Were you able to check for the first part of Dunn’s herd on Winfield’s land?”
“Had no call to. No one had told me he’d been trying to buy their ranch or about the mischief. If they’d reported the problems, I would have had grounds—shakey but I could have made it work.”
Sheriff Haney waved his hands, sending a spray of bread crumbs from the one holding his food. “Without a reason, I can’t just ride in and check the brands. Same as accusing a rancher of being a rustler.”
As he cut a bite of his cheese, Bret recalled Moose telling him all he needed was his knife. “Too bad they didn’t tell you about the trouble. Guess Mr. Dunn thought he could handle Winfield.”
The sheriff swallowed. “Ike was a peculiar man. Didn’t like anyone knowing his business and would be the sort to think he could handle whatever came his way. Too late, he learned he was wrong.”
“Davie said you and his father were from the same hometown.”
“Yep, but I don’t think of it as home. Palo Pinto is home. I was glad to leave
