Quinn

by R. C. Ryan

  As always, the kitchen smelled heavenly.

  Ela removed a pan of cinnamon biscuits from the oven while Phoebe set platters of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon on the table before lifting a skillet of potatoes fried with onions and peppers from the stove.

  “A breakfast fit for a king,” Cole remarked as he took his place at the table.

  “Or at least a rancher,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “Big Jim and Jake won’t be joining you. They left hours ago.”

  “I heard them.” Cole shot her a quick smile of thanks as she handed him a steaming mug of coffee. “My father never learned how to tiptoe. I guess Big Jim figures when he’s up, everyone should get up.”

  That had the others laughing and sharing stories of Big Jim’s morning rituals, which included, when they were younger, ringing a school bell to alert them that it was time to rise and shine and begin their daily chores.

  Cole shook his head. “From what I could see, they had enough supplies in the back of that wagon to feed an army.”

  “Just filling requests from the wranglers,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “Besides the antibiotics Jake packed for the calves, Big Jim asked for a couple of cases of longnecks, some homemade cinnamon rolls, all the fixings for pot roast, and a big pot of chili.”

  Quinn winked at Cheyenne. “No matter whose ranch they’re working on, the wranglers always want the same thing. Beer and eye-watering, gut-burning chili. The spicier the better.”

  “And the smart cook always gives them what they want,” Phoebe said as she circled the table filling their cups.

  Cheyenne nodded. “That’s exactly what Micah always says.”

  “Micah?” Ela’s head came up sharply.

  “Micah Horn. He’s my cook and all-around handyman. I don’t think there’s anything Micah can’t do.”

  Seeing Ela’s sharp-eyed interest, Quinn said, “Do you know him, Ela?”

  She ducked her head. “Used to. A long time ago.”

  “Really?” Cheyenne turned to say something more, but Ela was already walking out the back door to the bunkhouse.

  When Quinn passed Cheyenne a platter of eggs, she helped herself to some and was soon caught up in a lively conversation about the rapidly disappearing snow.

  Like all ranchers, they had the weather uppermost in their minds. The sooner the snow was gone, the better chance newborn calves would have of surviving. With spring rains they could get on with the business of driving their herds toward the lush rangelands in the higher elevations.

  It wasn’t that the work would be easier. The chores on any ranch were never ending. But the heart of every rancher beat a little faster when the days grew longer, the air warmer, and the nights softer.

  Cole glanced over at Josh. “You going to give me a hand today with that tractor?”

  “Sure thing.” Josh pushed away from the table.

  “Afterward, I’m hoping to take the plane up, if the weather cooperates.”

  Josh grinned at his father. “I figured, with the weather getting gentler, you’d be itching to fly. Where’re you headed?”

  “Just over the ranch. I’d like a bird’s-eye view of the pockets of snow, and how far the herd has wandered. You want to tag along?”

  “Yeah. I’d like to see for myself.”

  Cole turned to Quinn. “What’re you up to today?”

  “After morning chores, I’ll be heading over with Cheyenne to her ranch to see how the cleanup’s going.”

  Cheyenne was quick to protest. “If you’re needed here, I can take myself.”

  Cole lifted a hand to halt her objection. “I’ve seen you working alongside my family. If you can muck stalls here, Quinn can lend a hand at your place.”

  Quinn winked at her before turning to his father. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Pa.”

  It had been on the tip of her tongue to resist, but the Conway charm worked its magic.

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  And she did. Despite the lingering guilt about their barn fire, she recognized that they were all going out of their way to make her feel completely welcome here.

  Just having their respect and friendship lightened her burden considerably.

  Of course, it didn’t hurt to have Quinn dazzle her with that rogue smile of his. How could she feel anything except lighthearted around this amazing man?

  As they were driving away from the ranch, Cheyenne nodded toward a large barn some distance from the others.

  “What’s that used for?”

  “Pa’s plane. He had a runway built just beyond the barn for easy liftoff.”

  She turned to him. “Do you fly?”

  He nodded. “We all do. Big Jim insisted. Not that we needed any coaxing. As soon as we were old enough to get our driver’s licenses, we qualified for our pilot’s licenses.”

  “With a spread this big, I guess you’d need a plane to keep track of everything.”

  He adjusted his sunglasses. “How about you? Ever fly?”

  She kept her attention on the road. “My dad talked about it, but he never followed through. He used to say that we were so far from civilization, a plane was as necessary as a truck. Maybe, if he and Buddy were still around…” Her voice trailed off.

  When they came to a fork in the road, she read the sign and arched a brow. “International Chem?”

  “One of our tenants. They lease a portion of our land to mine trona.” He chuckled. “When Big Jim first discovered it here on his land, he had never even heard of it.”

  Cheyenne colored. “I’ve heard of it, but I’m not sure what good it is.”

  “Soda ash. If you’ve ever used bicarbonate of soda, it probably came from the trona mined on our land. This mine alone produces several million tons a year, with no end in sight.”

  “That’s fascinating. How did Big Jim discover what he had inside the earth, and how valuable it was?”

  “It started with a couple of oil prospectors, who asked if they could lease a small section of land for drilling.” He chuckled. “Their grandkids are very glad they did. One of those old oil prospectors told Big Jim about what else they’d found, and how valuable it was. So he leased another section of land to a company hoping to extract it.” Quinn looked over as a thought struck. “You think you might have trona on your land?”

  She shrugged. “It’s worth a look. It would certainly help pay a few bills.”

  He nodded. “We’ll have a talk with Big Jim tonight. See if International Chem or one of their subsidiaries would be interested in doing a test drill.”

  As they followed the highway toward her ranch, Cheyenne’s mind was mulling the possibilities.

  Finding additional value in her land would be like winning the lottery. Of course, finding the Conway family, and especially Quinn, had already made her feel like a winner. Sometimes, when Quinn looked at her as though he meant to devour her, as he was doing now, she got all warm and tingly inside.

  He touched a finger to her cheek. “A penny for them.”

  “Sorry.” She hated the blush that rushed to her cheeks. “Too personal to share.”

  “Well then.” There was that smile, sending her heart on a wild ride. “I hope I’m part of your thoughts.”

  She evaded answering. “Am I part of yours?”

  “A big part.” He studied her profile as she drove. “You’ve even managed to slip into my dreams.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m not.” Still smiling, he turned to stare at the passing landscape, pleased to see more signs of spring greenery poking up along the roadside.

  It wasn’t the scenery he was thinking about. The thought of making his dream woman a reality, and of keeping her safe, was uppermost in his mind.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As they drove up the long gravel drive toward Cheyenne’s ranch, Quinn pointed to a truck parked outside the house. “Now that ought to make your day a whole lot brighter.”

  A group of wrangle
rs was busy unloading building supplies, under the watchful eye of contractor Rusty Perry.

  “Your father was right on the money about Rusty. I never expected him to move this quickly.” She parked behind the line of trucks, and she and Quinn hurried toward the house.

  Rusty looked up as they approached and tipped his hat to Cheyenne. “ ’Morning, ma’am. Thought I’d get an early start, so you won’t have to be inconvenienced any longer than necessary.”

  “Thank you, Rusty. I really appreciate it.” She looked around with a smile, noting that the debris had been hauled away.

  Rusty led the way inside the now-empty structure. “Let’s start here.” He paused in the utility room. “I’d like you to take a look at the blueprints I drew up after we talked. We’ll walk through all the changes you suggested, and I’ll get your final input before I take this to the county for approval. Once they give me the green light, I can have this roughed in within weeks. If you order your new furnace and water heater, they could be ready for installation at the same time.”

  While they took another tour of the house, Quinn paused to talk to Micah and Wes Mason.

  “ ’Morning, wolf whisperer,” the older man said with a grin.

  “Micah. Wes.” Quinn shook each man’s hand.

  “How’s our girl holding up?” Wes asked.

  “Just fine. She’s a strong woman.”

  Micah shook his head from side to side. “Tell me about it. Her daddy used to say she was the most stubborn female ever born.”

  “I’d say that’s a good thing, considering all she’s been through.”

  Quinn saw the two men exchange a look.

  “Okay,” Quinn said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

  It was Wes who broke the silence. “We don’t want to hit Cheyenne with more bad news, but…”

  “But?” Quinn prodded.

  “We’ve suddenly lost an awful lot of newborn calves.”

  “It comes with the territory.” Quinn nodded toward the snow-covered hills. “Considering how rotten the weather has been.”

  “This isn’t the usual spring loss of a dozen or so, or even a couple of dozen. By my count, nearly fifty newborns have been found dead.”

  Quinn’s tone roughened. “Then the wranglers haven’t been doing their job. With snow this deep up in the hills, they ought to be singling out the weakest and keeping them isolated in a holding pen with their mothers until they’re past any crisis.”

  “My wranglers know what they’re doing.” It was plain that Wes was keeping a tight rein on his anger and frustration. “Most of the dead ones didn’t give any sign of being sick or weak. Yesterday they were fine; this morning they were just gone.”

  “Predators?” Quinn’s tone sharpened.

  Wes shook his head. “Wolves would haul the carcass back to their den. A few have gone missing, but even more were just left dead and frozen in the snow.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. The only predator who kills without eating its victim is man.”

  Wes exchanged a look with Micah.

  Quinn looked from one man to the other. “So you both believe this is deliberate.”

  Wes said between clenched teeth, “I know it for a fact. Those calves had their throats slit.”

  Quinn muttered a savage oath. “You think Deke Vance is behind it?”

  Wes studied the toe of his worn boot. “It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around that. Deke grew up on his daddy’s ranch just miles from here. He has to know how much the rancher depends on new calves to double his herd.”

  “Exactly.” Quinn’s voice lowered with anger. “What better way to ruin an enemy than to destroy his chance to earn a living? I guess if a fire won’t drive Cheyenne away, losing her ranch to debt would do it.”

  Micah’s free hand curled into a fist at his side. “I’ve been around cattle all my life. I can’t imagine what kind of man could go around killing healthy calves.”

  Quinn thought about the angry confrontation in town. “A man filled with rage.” He paused, tamping down his own anger. “Have you reported this to Chief Fletcher?”

  “I figure I have to run it past Cheyenne first. I wouldn’t want her to hear it from the police chief before she hears it from me.” Wes stuffed his hands in the pockets of his worn denims. “I hate like hell to have to give her this news on top of everything else.”

  “It can’t be helped. She has a right to know.” Quinn glanced toward Cheyenne, descending the stairs behind Rusty Perry. There was an eagerness in her voice, a spring in her step, at the thought of getting her house in order.

  Like Wes and Micah, Quinn resented the fact that this latest news would steal even this meager joy from her day.

  “Thanks again, Rusty.” Cheyenne shook hands with the contractor. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with the plans.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am. I guarantee that you’ll be happy with the outcome.”

  He called out his good-bye to the others before climbing into his truck and trailing behind the now-empty delivery truck.

  Austin ambled out of the barn and joined Cheyenne and the men, who were listening in silence as she described all the changes she and Rusty were planning.

  “Rusty said it’s an easy matter to slope the cement floor toward a drain, and add a bigger sink and hose attachment. That way we can clean our boots right in the utility room, and then let them dry on custom-built slotted shelves.” She added with a laugh, “And before any of you think I’m a genius for dreaming up this plan, I can’t take any of the credit. I saw this at the Conway ranch, and learned it was Big Jim’s idea.”

  “Big Jim?’ Austin rolled his eyes and grinned at the others. “Sounds pretty cozy to me. What’re you calling Quinn’s father these days? Big Daddy?”

  Cheyenne joined in the laughter. “You can tease me all you want, Austin. I’m not going to take the bait. The day is too perfect to let anything spoil it.”

  Wes glanced at Micah and cleared his throat before laying a hand on Cheyenne’s arm. “Chey, honey, we need to talk.”

  “Okay. What’s up?”

  “Not here.” He nodded toward the corral beyond the barn. “Why don’t we take a walk?”

  As he turned away, he couldn’t hide the misery that clouded his eyes.

  Cheyenne returned from the corral, her movements stiff, her eyes as dark as storm clouds. “Quinn, I won’t be going home with you. If you’d like to take my truck back to your place, I’ll have one of the wranglers pick it up later.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He studied her face, eyes and mouth taut with barely controlled anger. “Have you contacted Everett Fletcher?”

  Her head came up sharply. “You know?”

  Before he could say a word she turned on Wes. “You told him before telling me?”

  Wes nodded. “Sorry, Chey. I needed to vent. I told him while you were talking to Rusty Perry.”

  She let out a long, deep sigh and touched a hand to her cell phone in her shirt pocket. “I contacted the chief. As soon as he gets here, we’ll head up to the hills. I need to see for myself. And he’ll want to examine the calves before filing his report.”

  Wes touched a hand to her arm. “You could go back to the Conway ranch and let me take care of the chief.”

  “It’s my ranch. My herd.”

  “I know.” Wes gave a reluctant nod of his head. “But it’s pretty grisly. Some of the wranglers were so upset they had to walk away.”

  “I’ll deal with it.” She turned away and walked to the house, moving from room to room in silence.

  Quinn remained outside with the others, giving her time to process all that she’d learned. He understood her need to be alone with her thoughts.

  When the police chief arrived, Cheyenne, Quinn, and Wes climbed into Everett Fletcher’s truck and began the drive into the hills.

  As he drove, he said to Wes, “Give me all you’ve got so far.”

  While the others listened in silence, Wes filled in the
details as the police chief maneuvered the sturdy, four-wheel-drive vehicle along the twists and turns of the snow-and-mud-covered trail.

  When they arrived at the site, they stepped out and walked among the lowing cattle.

  It was a familiar scene that always tugged at Quinn’s heart. The soil soggy underfoot as the snow melted in the afternoon sunlight and was trampled by hundreds of animals. The plume of warm breath in the frosty air. The smell of earth and dung. The sight of calves standing on wobbly legs and cows seeking their errant young as the herd milled about.

  Above the din could be heard the more urgent lowing of cows, heavy with milk, searching for their newborns, who were nowhere to be found.

  Wes led the chief, Cheyenne, and Quinn to an area of the range ringed by mounds of earth high enough to keep the cattle at bay. As they climbed atop a mound they peered down to see that it was a burial ground, freshly dug, holding the bloody carcasses of calves.

  Cheyenne wasn’t the only one to gasp. Even the police chief, who had witnessed his share of the seamier side of life, couldn’t hide his horror at the scene of carnage.

  While the others remained above, Chief Fletcher strode down into the pit and began examining the bodies. When he rejoined them, his lips were a thin, tight line of fury.

  “It’s just as you said, Wes. Their throats were slashed. This was a deliberate act. And whoever did it wanted that fact to be known.”

  He strode toward his vehicle, with the others trailing.

  Quinn kept his arm around Cheyenne’s shoulders and could feel how tightly she held herself, as though afraid that if she should relax the tight grip she had over her emotions for even one moment she would fall apart.

  The chief drove almost the entire distance back to her ranch in silence, his eyes narrowed in thought.

  When they came to a halt he waited until they’d exited the vehicle before lowering the window.

  “My first stop will be at the Vance ranch. Young Deke claimed he was home the night of your fire, Cheyenne, and his father confirmed it. But since then I haven’t been able to reach him or his father. There’s been no answer at their ranch. Something like this would have taken a man several hours to inflict so much damage, so young Deacon had better have witnesses who’ll swear under oath exactly where he’s been spending his time, or he’ll be answering a whole lot of questions from behind bars.”