“When your cousin was caught, did Riley go to prison too?”
“I don’t think so. I couldn’t find any records or anything in the paper. It sounds crazy, given how messed up the family was generally, but Riley and Josh loved each other a lot. They would do everything they could to protect each other.”
Sue studied Megan for a few seconds. “This is hard for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. When I was growing up, Uncle Riley and Josh were the only ones who were ever good to me. But y’all have shown me far more kindness in a month than they did in sixteen years. I owe you, and it’s only right to tell you what I know. I hope I’m jumping to conclusions, and they aren’t doing anything wrong.”
Dub’s anger appeared to have eased a little, but not much. “Anything else you want to tell us?”
“My mother’s name is Jackie Johnson, unless I missed a recent marriage.” She gave them her mother’s address. “Peters shouldn’t have too much trouble investigating her. Otherwise, I think I’ve covered the important things.” Megan looked down at the coffee table, breaking away from the rancher’s gaze. “If you want me to leave, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
Will drew in a quick breath. “No. Absolutely not.” He put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side. “Don’t even think about it.” He looked at his father with a hard glint in his eyes. “And don’t you think about sending her away.”
Dub’s jaw clenched. “You tellin’ me what to do, boy?”
“Yes, sir. I am.” Will’s arm tightened, and his body tensed. “She stays.”
“Will, don’t,” Megan whispered. “Please.” The worst thing possible would be for Dub to tell her to leave. The second worst thing was to cause Will and his father to argue.
Will ignored her. “Megan hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Maybe not.” Dub stood, glaring at him. “But you’re treadin’ on dangerous ground.”
Will rose to his feet and flexed his fingers. “I’m not going to let you push her around.”
Megan stared at them, fear curling around her heart. Were they going to fight?
“If anybody’s pushing her around, it’s you.” Clearly angry and exasperated, Dub’s voice deepened. He took a step away from the chair. “You’re the one giving orders, not me.”
Megan gasped. Lord, this can’t be happening. She couldn’t help it—she burst into tears.
“Oh, good grief,” cried Sue. “Look what you’ve done. You two quit pawin’ the ground and snortin’ like two ol’ bulls. Behave yourselves. You’re scaring Megan.”
Will instantly sat down beside Megan and put his arms around her. “Sugar, don’t cry. It’s okay.”
She tried to pull away, but he held her close. “Don’t fight . . .” she sobbed. “Don’t want . . .”—sniff—“either one to get hurt.”
“Aw, sweetheart, we weren’t going to hit each other.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”
Dub came over, sat down on the padded leather edge of the coffee table, and handed her a clean white handkerchief. “I don’t want you to leave, Megan. Sue doesn’t either.”
“That’s right, honey.” Sue sat down beside her husband. “Even if your uncle and cousin are causing trouble, that’s no reason for you to leave.”
Megan dabbed her eyes and sniffed again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Sue patted her knee.
“Me too,” said Dub. “As for me and Will—we’re natured a lot alike.”
Sue nodded. “Muscle minded.”
Dub slanted his wife a glance and narrowed his eyes, then turned his attention back to Megan. “So we clash sometimes.”
“Trying to see who’s the biggest buzzard at the carcass,” Sue proclaimed with a perfectly straight face.
She succeeded in making Megan smile, whether or not she meant to.
Sue bumped Dub’s arm with her shoulder. “Let’s go call Peters and whoever else you need to and let these youngsters kiss and make up.”
Megan almost choked.
Will grinned and winked at his mother.
Dub looked at Sue, a smile hovering around his mouth, and stood, holding out his hand. “Yes, dear.”
Sue took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Son, I hope you’re taking notes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After his parents left the room, Will caressed Megan’s cheek. “My dad and I argue sometimes, but it never comes to blows. I don’t know any family that doesn’t have heated disagreements now and then. Even Jenna and Nate or Emily and Chance have their squabbles.”
She certainly hadn’t seen his siblings and their spouses argue, but she supposed they tried to be on their best behavior around her. Could she ever fit in with the Callahans? She longed to be a part of this loving family, so close to them that they could be totally themselves with her. After today, they’d probably be even more restrained.
“Megan, did you hear anything I said?” Will murmured, leaning closer.
“Yes. All of it.” She looked up at him. “I think. Every family squabbles, and I don’t need to be afraid if you and your dad get riled up. You won’t punch each other.”
“That’s right. We might yell and bump chests like the old football players we are, but you don’t have to worry about us beating each other to a pulp.”
“You actually bump chests?”
“Naw, that was a figure of speech. It would hurt without the pads.” He focused on her lips. “Are you done talkin’?”
She shook her head. “I know a lot of sayings, but what does muscle minded mean?”
“Strong willed.”
“Oh.” She wanted him to kiss her, but his parents were in the other room. What if they walked out and caught them smooching? On the other hand, they clearly left them alone for that very purpose, and she was wasting precious minutes. “Okay. I’m done now.”
“’Bout time.” Gently tipping up her chin with his fingertips, he proceeded to follow his mama’s instructions to the letter.
24
On Thursday afternoon, Will drove alongside Jack’s Creek where they had killed off the salt cedar the previous August. The non-native plant devoured water needed by the pasture grass and had practically dried up the stream in the past few years. Now the creek flowed at a lazy pace. It wasn’t deep, but it provided water for the cattle and wildlife.
He didn’t like using herbicides unless absolutely necessary. With salt cedar there wasn’t any other effective choice. This project had been successful. Parking the pickup, he got out and walked along the creek bank to see if there were any salt cedar sprouts mingled with the native vegetation.
His cell phone rang, surprising him. Though he carried the phone most of the time, there were many places on the ranch without service. Checking caller ID, he answered, “Hi, Dad.”
“Have you been by Jack’s Creek yet?”
“I’m there now. Still looks good. We can chalk this one up as a success.” Will figured his dad had something else on his mind. Normally, he would have given Dub a report over supper. “What’s up?”
“I got a call from Peters. Megan’s uncle and cousin work for Whiteside Feed Mill in San Angelo, making deliveries to feed stores. Riley drives the truck, and Josh is his helper. Their area covers a lot of her grandpa’s old rustling territory.”
“Could be just a coincidence.”
“Maybe. The only way to know if they chose the delivery area would be to ask their boss, and I’m not ready to do that. If they are living an honest life, I don’t want to stir up any trouble for them.” The sound of a horn honking came over the phone, telling Will that his father was in town.
“Peters confirmed that they weren’t anywhere around here the night our cattle were stolen. They were in San Saba watching a softball tournament the Whiteside team was playing in. But I talked to the sheriff and learned a curious thing. Half of the cattle thefts in the past four months in this region have been
on Friday or Saturday nights.”
“So theoretically, a man could hold down a legitimate day job, Monday through Friday, and do his rustlin’ on the weekend. If he had a place to keep the cattle until he could sell them. Do the Richmonds have weekends off?”
“Yes, they do,” said Dub.
Will sighed and rested his foot on a big rock. “So we can’t completely rule them out. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
“Me either. After I talked to Peters, I stopped by the feed store. I spotted some sacks with the Whiteside logo, so I asked about the company. Norbin says they produce feed for sheep, goats, and wildlife. He has deliveries every couple of months or so. There’s no set time. He puts in an order when he’s low on stock. He mentioned Riley and Josh in the conversation, said they were a couple of good ol’ boys. They were here last Friday.”
When Megan was home decorating cakes. Thank you, Lord.
Dub continued. “According to Norbin, Whiteside hired Josh to help his dad because Riley had knee surgery a couple of months ago. It’s a short-term job.”
“But long enough to scout out potential victims.” Will started walking back to his truck. “Megan doesn’t want to see them or have any contact with her family. I don’t blame her. What worries me is if they are rustling, what will they do if they spot her?”
“Exactly. That troubles me too. I don’t see how I can ask Norbin when they’ll be bringing the next shipment without him getting too curious.”
Will grimaced. The feed store owner was the nosiest man in town, and one of the biggest gossips. “If he gets a whiff of anything halfway interesting, he’ll snoop it out faster than Peters. Is the sheriff going to keep an eye out for them?”
“Yeah, he pulled up their mug shots, but the photos are old. Especially Riley’s. It might be hard to identify him if he comes into town in something besides the company truck.”
“It also means he hasn’t been arrested for anything in a long time. Maybe that’s a good sign.”
“Could be. Or maybe he’s good at avoiding the law. Peters said he keeps a pretty low profile. His son doesn’t. Josh drives a new pickup, has a nice apartment, and has a rep for being a big spender if he goes out for a night on the town. Living pretty high for a man fresh out of prison. He can’t afford that kind of life on what he makes at Whiteside.”
Will opened the pickup door and climbed in. “So the assumption is that he had some money hidden away from his burglaries, or he’s back into crime.”
“Peters will keep digging,” said Dub. “Maybe he won some money in the lotto.”
“That’s better than the other two options. Did Peters say anything about her mother?”
“Pretty much the same as what Megan told us. She spent two months in jail last year for shoplifting, and she’s been in court-mandated rehab twice since Megan left home. Evidently, it didn’t do any good.” His dad took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Sometimes we forget how fortunate we are. You comin’ over tonight?”
“Probably not. I think I’ll cook Megan a steak if she’s not too tired. It’s past time for her to spend the evening at my place.” Especially if she was going to be living there soon. “I need to bring her up to speed on what we’ve learned.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Will ended the call, then dialed the museum and invited Megan for supper. He didn’t mention Peters’s report or anything else they’d learned. Nor did they talk long. She was busy addressing the museum newsletters and wanted to get them to the post office. He needed to finish up some other work, and he knew for a fact that when he drove half a mile farther, his cell phone would be worthless.
After dinner, Will and Megan relaxed in the living room portion of the great room. It was still too hot outside to be comfortable, especially for a pregnant lady whose feet were puffy.
“I feel bad taking your recliner.” Megan sat up a bit straighter when he handed her a small plate containing a piece of German butter cake. “But I have to admit I’m enjoying all this coddling.”
“Good. You’re supposed to. No sweat on the recliner. I’m comfortable here on the couch.” He took a bite of the cake, doughy on the bottom, sweet, gooey, and slightly crunchy on the top. “Oh, wow, this is really good.”
“Told you.” She grinned at him, looking adorably smug. “I got the recipe from Mrs. Hoffmann. It’s supposed to be a breakfast cake, but I like it anytime. I’ll leave it so you can have it in the morning.”
“Thanks. Though it might not last that long. Do you still have some at home?” Since she obviously loved it, he didn’t want to deprive her.
She nodded and swallowed. “I put it in two pans, so I could bring you one.”
“Even before I asked you to come over. Nice.” Sweet and thoughtful, so typical of her. He still marveled at how well she’d turned out when her family was such a mess. From the things she’d said about Mrs. Hoffmann, he expected the elderly Christian woman had been a big influence on Megan and not only in cooking.
During dinner, Will had told her everything they’d learned about her family. They’d also discussed her working from home the week her relatives were supposed to make the feed delivery. If they could pinpoint when that would be. They couldn’t do it forever, but he’d concentrate on the present for now.
After they finished dessert, he said, “There’s still the possibility that Riley and Josh are involved in the rustling.”
“I know. If they are, they aren’t following Grandpa’s plan. He took the cattle out of state or to south or east Texas to an auction. They’d be gone for days, sometimes weeks.”
“That’s the part that has me puzzled. If they’re stealing the cattle on Friday or Saturday night, how do they dispose of them and get back to work Monday morning? There are a few auctions on Saturday, but not many. They’d get suspicious if they brought in cattle with different brands. None of them run on Sunday.”
Megan leaned back in the recliner and stared at the ceiling for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. Then she sat upright again. “They could have a single buyer. I’d forgotten about this. When Grandpa and Riley started out, they sold all the cattle to a man near Midland. He’d change the brand, hold them for three or four months, then sell them at the auction or to another rancher for about twice what he paid for them.”
Will stretched out his legs, resting his boots on the rustic coffee table. “So they divided the risk.”
“Until Grandpa decided they were getting ripped off and started taking the cattle to auctions himself. They made more money on each deal, but they eventually got caught trying to sell some.”
“Whether or not your relatives are involved, that’s good info to pass on to the sheriff. I’ll give him a call in the morning. If Riley and Josh are guilty, what will you do if they spot you in town?”
“Waddle the other way?”
Will felt a twinge of irritation. She wasn’t taking this seriously.
“I’ll keep my eyes open for the Whiteside truck.”
“What if they aren’t in the company truck?”
“You’re just full of what-ifs, aren’t you?”
“Would they hurt you?”
“No.” She put down the recliner footrest and got up, a movement that was getting harder for her. Walking around the coffee table, she came over to sit beside him. “If they’re involved and they spotted me, they’d beat feet out of town, and probably out of the area. They won’t take any more risks than necessary. They’d know I’d suspect what they were up to.”
“That’s what worries me.” He put his arm around her, smiling when she snuggled closer. “I know Riley rescued you from a beating, but do you honestly think he’d just walk away?”
“Yes. He’s the one who told me to leave home, to get away before I became trapped in that lifestyle. He wouldn’t want to get me involved, either on his side or the law’s.”
She still clung to the belief that there was some good in her uncle. Maybe there was. Maybe he was wor
king himself up over nothing.
“What about Josh? He’s done hard time. Do you think he’s still that nice guy who bought you new clothes?”
“I’m sure he’s changed, but I still don’t think he’d hurt me. I may be naive, but I think he’d move on to another area. Besides, it’s not like he’d be pulling a stock trailer. If they came to town, they’d hide the trailer somewhere. They wouldn’t be so obvious.
“In fact, I don’t think they’d come to town at all unless they were casing the area, checking to see where the constable and deputy hang out, or if the law officers follow any kind of pattern in their patrols.” She made a face. “I’d better watch how I talk around other people. They might think I come from a den of thieves.”
“Can’t have them getting that idea.”
“Especially since it’s true. I’m tired of all this. I’m not going to worry about if and when I can go to town. I’m not going to peek around corners or shadows to see if trouble is waiting. No more talk today about my family or rustling or anything awful. I’m not going to fret about it, but trust God to protect me.”
That was all well and good, but Will figured God expected people to use good common sense too. “Just promise me that you’ll keep your eyes open.”
“I promise.” She took a deep breath, held out her hand, and made a pressing motion with her thumb.
“What are you doing?”
“Changing the conversation channel to a new subject. Dr. Cindy came by the museum today to see me.”
“Why? Don’t you have an appointment tomorrow?”
“I was supposed to, but she has to go out of town, so they canceled my appointment. She wanted to know how I was feeling and told me to still go by the lab so they can do a blood test. She also wants me to take some childbirth classes at the hospital. Three of them, one a week, starting in a couple of weeks.” She looked up at him. “Do you think Jenna would be my coach?”
“I expect she would. She’d be a good one.” He wanted to be there when Sweet Baby was born, to help her through it, to share in the joy and miracle of birth. But he had no right. Yet. “Are you nervous about having the baby?”
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