with rustlers, and one of the thieves turned out to be Charlie Bates, a longtime employee on the Silver Spur. Charlie and a few other crooks were in jail now, unable to make bail, but nobody figured the bad guys were all in custody. Charlie didn’t have the mental capacity to run an operation that big and complicated, but he wasn’t naming any names and neither were any of his partners in crime.
“How are things in the cattle business?” Austin asked, keeping his tone light.
Tate frowned, and his jawline hardened. Evidently, he’d used up his daily allotment of good cheer saving the horse. “As if you gave a damn,” he retorted, peevish as hell, just before he turned to walk away, vanishing into the barn.
Austin watched him go, didn’t look at Garrett when he spoke. “What’s chewing on him?”
“We’re still losing livestock,” Garrett replied after a long time and with significant reluctance.
Austin faced Garrett straight on. “Stolen?” Before Charlie and his gang had been rounded up, they’d raided the McKettrick herd a number of times, carted off a lot of living beef in semitrucks. Another half-dozen cattle had been gunned down and left to rot.
“About a hundred head, as far as we can tell,” Garrett replied. “A few more were shot, too.”
Austin swore. “You and Tate were planning on mentioning this to me—when...?”
Garrett sighed, folded his arms. Scuffed at the ground with the toe of one boot. “We figured you had enough to worry about, what with your back being messed up and everything.”
“I get a little sore once in a while,” Austin bit out, stung to a cold, hard fury, “but I’m not a cripple, Garrett. And what happens on this ranch is as much my concern as it is yours and Tate’s—whatever you think to the contrary.”
Tate came out of the barn again. Because of the angle of his hat brim, his face was in shadow, and there was no reading his mood, but Austin figured it was still bad.
As if you gave a damn, Tate had said.
Where the hell had that come from?
Garrett thrust out a sigh. “Tate’s pretty worried,” he said, keeping his voice down. “And I can’t say I blame him. Rustling is one thing, and killing cattle for the hell of it is another. It’s hard not to conclude that somebody out there has worked up a pretty good grudge against us, for whatever reason, and we figure it’s bound to escalate.”
Tate waved but headed for his truck instead of joining the conversation between Austin and Garrett.
At the moment, that was fine with Austin, because he was pissed off at being left out of the loop. Okay, so he had a herniated disc. He couldn’t ride bulls anymore, and for the time being, he wouldn’t be doing any heavy-duty ranch work, either. But one-third of the Silver Spur was his, and he had a right to know what went on within its boundaries, whether it was good or bad.
He watched as Tate got into the truck and drove off.
Garrett started toward the house and, after a moment’s hesitation, Austin fell into step beside him, but there was no more talk.
Once they were inside, Garrett headed for his part of the house, and Austin went to his, glad to find Shep there waiting for him. It made him feel a little less lonely.
A little, not a lot.
He fed the dog, then made for the bathroom, kicking off his boots and stripping down for a hot shower.
The spray eased some of the residual knots in his back, and he felt damn near human by the time he toweled off and pulled on fresh clothes. He ran a comb through his hair, put his boots back on and then went downstairs.
Shep, having finished his nightly kibble ration, went along, too, curious and companionable.
Austin searched the large storage room adjoining the garage until he found the camping gear. He took a rolled-up sleeping bag out of a cabinet—it smelled a little musty—and returned to the kitchen.
There he ate two frankfurters straight from the package, drank what was left of the milk and called it supper. If he got hungry later, he could always raid the kitchen again. Before going off to El Paso to take care of her niece and the new baby, Esperanza had cooked up and frozen enough grub to last for weeks.
He was in no danger of starvation.
* * *
THE TEENAGE ACTORS were on a break, and Paige sat with Julie and Calvin in the front row of the small auditorium, the three of them sharing a submarine sandwich from the supermarket deli.
Paige wanted to tell her sister all about the little mare, Molly, and how gentle Austin had been with the animal, but with Calvin right there and some of the drama club kids within earshot, that didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Did you decide whether or not you’ll take the job?” Julie asked, finishing her part of the sandwich, crumpling the wrapper and stuffing it into the bag.
“What job?” Paige asked, momentarily confused.
Of course, the moment the words left her mouth, she remembered Garrett’s offer, made that morning in the ranch-house kitchen. Basically, he and Tate wanted her to play nursemaid to Austin.
“You knew Garrett and Tate were planning to ask me to serve as Austin’s nurse?” Paige wondered aloud.
Of course she had, and Libby, too. Most likely, her sisters had set her up, hoping she would fall for Austin the way they had for his brothers and make the wedding a triple.
Even after a long day of teaching, Julie’s smile was brilliant. She seemed to have boundless energy, and it took a lot to catch her off guard.
“Sure I did,” she replied, unfazed. “Garrett and I talked about it last night.”
Paige sighed. “I see.”
Julie elbowed her lightly. “Answer my question,” she said.
“Right now, I’m inclined to refuse,” Paige replied, taking the sandwich bag from Julie and dropping in what remained of her supper and a couple of wadded paper napkins. “Austin didn’t exactly take kindly to the idea.”
“That’s just his pride,” Julie said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “This is serious, Paige. If Austin isn’t careful, he’ll have to have surgery, and that’s always a risk.”
Paige widened her eyes at Julie. “Yes,” she said pointedly, “as an RN, I’m familiar with the risks.”
Julie smiled angelically. Since she’d fallen in love with Garrett McKettrick and the two of them had decided to get married, she seemed to float through life, unconcerned with the moods of ordinary mortals like her younger sister. “It’s not as if you’re terribly busy or anything,” she reasoned cheerfully. “You probably won’t have to do anything more strenuous than make sure Austin doesn’t sneak off to enter some rodeo. How bad could it be?”
In her mind’s eye, Paige saw Austin tending the ailing mare, recalled the way he’d touched the animal, the gentle, rumbling tone of his voice. And she
