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Luke

Page 9

by R. C. Ryan


  “Sorry, Li’l Bit. I think this hot sun calls for a slow, easy ride so our horses don’t get overheated.” He pulled Turnip beside Ingrid’s mount, and the two exchanged a look.

  As the three horses started across the meadow toward the distant hills, Mick stood watching. Luke hadn’t fooled him. That young man wasn’t so much interested in the herd as he was in keeping Ingrid and Lily safe.

  After hearing about their midnight encounter with Lon Wardell, he was grateful for Luke Malloy’s presence on their ranch.

  The old man squirted oil on the hinges and tested the door one more time before turning toward the house. He’d seen a hunk of beef in the freezer and figured it was time for some good old-fashioned pot roast. Comfort food. After the scene Ingrid had been forced to witness last night, it was just what the doctor ordered.

  Of course, so was Luke Malloy. He was more than the doctor ordered.

  His presence on the ranch gave the old cowboy a feeling of security he hadn’t felt since Lars had passed away so suddenly.

  Chapter Ten

  Luke, Lily, and Ingrid enjoyed a leisurely ride across the meadows before pausing at the top of the ridge to study the herd below. As before, Lily urged her mount into a fast run down the hill, where horse and rider moved slowly among the grazing animals. These hills, and this herd, were part of the child’s comfort zone. She was as easy with these cows as a city kid would be with a skateboard.

  While Luke watched, something in the scene below looked out of place, but it took a minute for it to register in his mind. “That can’t be right.”

  Ingrid saw the grim set of his jaw. “What?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I hope I’m wrong. But from what I can see, there can’t be more than a couple of hundred head of cattle down there.”

  After scanning the scene, she tried to cover the little cry that escaped her lips before she bit down hard. “That’s impossible.”

  He drew his mount closer to hers. “With no wranglers, it wouldn’t be hard for anyone to help themselves to your cattle.”

  “Rustlers?”

  “With enough cattle haulers, they could truck away an entire herd in a couple of nights.”

  “But who…?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I can think of two men who would benefit from stealing your herd.”

  He saw her eyes fill before she turned away.

  He left her alone while he slowly circled the herd, mentally tallying as he did. By his calculations, there were less than four hundred cattle in this meadow, when there had been more than six hundred earlier.

  And for every cow missing, Ingrid’s chances of buying the ranch from her mother narrowed considerably.

  When he returned, she and Lily were standing together, talking quietly, while holding to their horses’ reins.

  “Maybe they wandered off.” The little girl put her hand on her big sister’s arm.

  “A couple of hundred?” Ingrid wrapped her arms around the little girl and hugged her hard. Against the top of her head she muttered, “I don’t want you to worry. It’s only cows. At least we’re safe, honey.”

  Luke managed a smile for Lily’s benefit. “I checked my phone and there’s no service up here. Why don’t we head back down to the house and see if we can make a call?”

  While Lily mounted and started ahead, Luke waited for Ingrid. As they rode slowly behind the little girl, he said quietly, “As soon as you get phone service, you need to phone the sheriff and report what you suspect. There may be other ranchers around here who’ve lost cattle, too. If so, he’ll be aware of a pattern. But even if yours is the only ranch hit, someone may have spotted a convoy of cattle haulers in the area.”

  “If they came in the night, they could be across the border into Canada by now.”

  He heard the note of grim resignation in her voice and wished he could think of something to lift her spirits. But they both knew this was serious business.

  Neither of them could pretend any longer. This was one more in a string of unexplained incidents. And they were all directed against Ingrid.

  Several hours later, Sheriff Eugene Graystoke pulled up to the Larsen house. A beefy man with a booming gravel voice, he commanded respect from the ranchers in the area.

  He climbed the back steps, but before he could knock on the door, Ingrid opened it.

  “Miss Larsen?” He removed his hat and held it at his side while extending his other hand. “Sheriff Eugene Graystoke.”

  “Hello, Sheriff.” She returned the handshake before indicating the girl behind her. “This is my sister, Lily.”

  The sheriff smiled at the little girl. “Hello, Lily.”

  “Hello. You look like those men on TV.” Lily couldn’t hide her fascination with his badge and uniform.

  He chuckled. “Now if only I could be paid what they’re paid, life would be good.”

  Ingrid stood aside. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Sheriff.”

  He walked into the mudroom and hung his hat on a peg by the door before scraping his boots.

  She led the way into the kitchen, where Mick had a pot of coffee perking. “Sheriff Graystoke, I believe you met my foreman, Mick Hinkley.”

  “Yes. When your field caught fire. Hello again, Mick.” The two shook hands. “Sorry I couldn’t determine the cause of the fire, but with so many lightning strikes during summer storms, it was a good bet that it was purely nature and not anything sinister.”

  “I understand. Coffee, Sheriff?”

  “I’ve never been known to refuse.” He looked over when Luke walked into the room from the direction of the parlor.

  “Luke Malloy. Didn’t expect to see you. What are you doing way over here?”

  “I took a nasty fall up in the hills and Ingrid brought me to her place and tended my wounds.”

  “You doing crazy tricks on that Harley again, Luke?”

  Luke grinned and shook his head. “I was riding Turnip this time. Anyway, considering all the trouble it took getting me here, I figured I’d repay the favor by hanging around awhile and giving a hand with the ranch chores.”

  “That’s nice of you. I’m sure your help is appreciated.” The sheriff turned to Ingrid. “I knew your daddy. Lars was a good man. And an honest one. I never had a single complaint about him, and that’s more than I can say about a lot of folks in this county.”

  He accepted a cup of coffee from Mick and then indicated the table. “Why don’t we sit and you can tell me about this suspected rustling.”

  As quickly as she could, Ingrid explained about their late-morning ride and the number of cattle that were now missing from the herd. The sheriff listened intently and waited until she’d given him as many details as possible before he began asking a few questions.

  “How many wranglers do you employ, Miss Larsen?”

  “Just Mick. He can do just about anything around the ranch. He cooks, he does barn chores, and he often rides up to check on the herd.”

  “How about this spring? You say you had a record number of calves born this year. How many wranglers were here to lend a hand?”

  “Just Mick and me. And my sister, Lily.”

  “Most calves need a lot of help being born. You and your little sister don’t look strong enough to pull a calf from its ma.”

  “We were born on this ranch. We know how to do whatever’s needed to survive.”

  The sheriff gave her an admiring look before flipping a page and making notations. “You say the herd numbered close to six hundred?”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  “Did you comb the hills for your missing cattle?”

  “No. There wasn’t time.”

  “I see. Have you fired anybody lately?”

  “Not since last year. After my father died, I had to let all the wranglers go. But I paid them their fair wages.”

  “I heard. I was sorry about your daddy. As I said, he was a good man.” He looked up, meeting her direct gaze. “You have any known enemies, ma’am?”<
br />
  She flushed. “There is a cowboy I ordered off my ranch at the end of my rifle.”

  “You threatened to shoot him?”

  She nodded.

  “Can you tell me why?”

  She stared hard at the table. “I didn’t like him. And I didn’t trust him.”

  The sheriff set aside his empty cup. “Would you care to elaborate? What did he do to make you distrust him?”

  “He…” She ran a finger around and around the rim of her cup before clenching her hands together in her lap. “My mother brought him home and said she was going to marry him. I couldn’t stand to see him sleeping in my father’s bed, sitting at my father’s place at the table. He even started driving my father’s truck.”

  Sheriff Graystoke’s voice softened. “That’s not a crime, ma’am.”

  “I know. But he was…I had a very bad feeling about him.”

  “You were about to say something more. He was what?”

  She sighed. “Creepy.”

  “So you aimed your rifle at your mother’s…friend and ordered him off the ranch. Could he be angry enough to want to retaliate?”

  She nodded. “He said as much.”

  “Can you give me his name?”

  “Lon Wardell.”

  He scribbled in his notes before looking up with a distinct frown. “Are there any more people you can think of who might want to do damage to you or your ranch?”

  “My neighbor, Bull Hammond.”

  “He has a reason?”

  “He offered to buy the ranch from my mother. I asked her to wait until roundup, to see if there was enough profit from the herd to buy it myself.”

  The sheriff looked puzzled. “If your mother owns this ranch, doesn’t the herd belong to her?”

  Ingrid shook her head. “My father’s will stated that my mother owns the ranch, with all its property and buildings, but the herd belongs to me.”

  “So the only one harmed by this theft is you. It doesn’t affect your mother’s interest in the ranch?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Would that be common knowledge to Wardell or Hammond?”

  She shrugged. “Only if Nadine told them.”

  Within half an hour he had as many facts as she was able to give. When the sheriff got ready to leave, Luke offered to walk with him to his vehicle.

  They paused outside the police car. Luke leaned close. “You heard what Ingrid had to say. What do you know about Wardell and Hammond?”

  “Wardell’s bad company. A loose cannon. I have a file of paperwork on him as long as my arm. Wardell has been drifting from ranch to ranch in these parts for as long as I’ve been sheriff here. He’s never been able to hold a job for long.”

  “He worked our place when I was just a kid. I know he was fired for stealing. Is there more?”

  Eugene Graystoke shrugged. “Larceny, mostly. If it isn’t nailed down, Wardell will find a fence willing to buy just about anything. Then he spends the money on booze. Most bartenders know whether he stole something big or small by the amount of time he stays drunk.”

  “Bull Hammond? What do you know about him?”

  “A bully. Likes to throw his weight around. I heard years ago there was bad blood between him and Lars Larsen. Never heard what the beef was about, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he still carries a grudge, even though Lars is in the ground. But there’s no official complaints on file. I’d say Larsen’s daughter better watch her back with those two out to cause trouble.”

  “There’s more.” Luke proceeded to tell the sheriff about the shot fired at the mustangs, the suspicious fire in the hayfield, the mysterious death of Ingrid’s dog, and the ugly incident between Nadine, Lon Wardell, Ingrid, and himself the night before.

  With a muttered oath, Sheriff Graystoke tossed his notebook into the car before settling himself in the driver’s seat. “I think I’ll take a ride to Wayside and have a chat with the bartender at Barney’s. See if he knows anything. Most bar owners are able to hear more in a single drunken night than a lawman can learn in weeks of investigating.”

  He gave Luke a long, level look. “It may be nothing more than cattle straying from their usual pasture. Or we may be dealing with cattle rustling. But if what you’ve told me turns out to be deliberate, and not accidental, we may have something much more serious going on here. That young woman’s life could be in danger.”

  “Then I guess that means I’m staying on.”

  The sheriff raised a brow. “You in this for the excitement? Or is that pretty lady the reason you’re staying?”

  Luke gave the sheriff the famous Malloy smile. “I’m not sure myself. I guess a little of both.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Roast beef and mashed potatoes?” Ingrid stepped into the kitchen and breathed deeply. “What’s the occasion, Mick?”

  Luke stepped in behind her, trailed by Lily, who’d worked alongside Ingrid and Luke in the barn, finishing up the last of the evening’s chores.

  Mick looked up from the oven, where a cloud of fragrant steam was drifting. “Are you saying there has to be something special to enjoy a good meal?”

  “All your meals are great, Mick.” Ingrid paused beside her place at the table and held up a tall glass filled with ice water. “But this is the first time I’ve ever seen you do this.” She drained it in one long, parched swallow.

  “I figured you’d be thirsty after all that work.” Mick reached into the refrigerator and removed two frosty longnecks, handing one to Luke. When Ingrid shook her head in refusal, he twisted the top off the other and took a drink. “Figured you’ve earned a thirst quencher, too, son.”

  After a long pull, Luke shot the old man a wide smile. “Now that was worth working up a sweat. Thanks, Mick.”

  Lily spotted the glass of milk beside her plate and needed no coaxing to enjoy the surprise.

  “You can all sit.” Mick began setting out a platter of roast beef swimming in gravy. The meat was so tender it fell off the bone. There was also a big bowl of steaming mashed potatoes, dotted with butter. The green beans were from the little patch of garden Mick tended all summer on the far side of the house. There was even a plate of store-bought rolls from the freezer, thawed in the oven until they were all soft and doughy, to mop up the gravy.

  For nearly ten minutes nobody said a word. The kitchen was peppered with sighs and murmurs of approval as they dug in.

  Finally, after her plate was empty and she’d finished her second glass of milk, Lily looked across the table at Luke. “Does your cook make roast beef like Mick?”

  “He makes a lot of beef dishes. We are, after all, a cattle ranch.” Luke shot the old man a smile. “But right this minute, I doubt anybody could match what your cook just did.”

  Mick gave a loud laugh. “Looks like all that flattery means somebody’s hoping for thirds.”

  Luke shook his head. “I’ve already had seconds, and I’m as stuffed as a sausage.”

  That had Lily giggling.

  Luke was careful not to look at Ingrid, but instead kept his eyes downcast. “I’ve been thinking that you all deserve a break from ranch chores. What would you think about driving over to my family ranch?”

  Lily clapped her hands and turned to her sister. “Oh boy. Can we, Ingrid? Can we? Please?”

  “A break would be nice if we had wranglers.” Ingrid looked away from the pleading look in her sister’s eyes. “But I don’t see how it’s possible. The ranch depends on all of us working together. Who would muck the stalls? What if the rest of the herd should disappear?”

  Luke drained his beer. “The horses could be put to pasture. As for the rustling, it happened when we were all here. If thieves have targeted your herd, nothing will stop them except the presence of wranglers keeping watch.”

  “Fine.” Ingrid crossed her arms over her chest. “Then I’ll keep watch tonight.”

  “You think men bent on stealing are going to be stopped by one woman?”

  She narrowed h
er gaze on him. “A woman with a rifle holds the same firepower as a man.”

  “I’ll grant you that. But if there are enough rustlers, their sheer numbers will overwhelm you before you can stop all of them.”

  “If my dog Tippy were still here”—she looked on the verge of sudden, unexpected tears—“this never could have happened. That herd was as much his as ours, and he’d have fought to the last breath to save them from strangers.”

  Luke arched a brow. “Did anyone else know he was attached to the herd?”

  She shrugged. “I guess just about everyone around here knew. Tippy could do the work of half a dozen wranglers. And he didn’t need a rifle. He had his teeth. He used them to nip at the stray cows, and he’d have used them on anyone trying to encroach on his territory.”

  “So his death was more than a personal loss. He was the herd’s guardian.” Luke considered before adding, “All right. If you insist on staying with the herd tonight, I’m going along.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He merely smiled. “I’m well aware of that. But you have to admit that a second gun would be comfort during a raid.”

  Lily spoke up in a sad voice. “What about me? If you both go, I’ll be all alone upstairs.”

  “It’s only for a night, honey.” Ingrid glanced at Mick, hoping he might calm the girl’s fears.

  Instead, the old man sided with Lily. “I don’t like the idea of us splitting up. Too much going on around here. There’s safety in numbers. If you want my vote, I say we either all stay in the hills with the herd, or we all stay here and trust that the cattle rustling was a onetime incident.”

  Ingrid fell silent as she mulled their options. On the one hand, she needed to hold on to what was left of her herd. On the other hand, she had no right to deny the rest of them, who worked so hard all day, the chance for a little rest from the grind.

  Tapping her finger against the table edge, she gave voice to her thoughts. “I’m trying to think like someone with a grudge to settle. I guess it doesn’t much matter whether we stay here or spend a night up in the hills. If we’re here, the rest of the cattle could be gone by morning. If we go, we’re draining our energy for the day ahead.”

 

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