“Not so odd if he knew it was not there. I keep the barn latched most days since the last time he accused me of stealing some of his stock.”
“He does this often?”
“Not really. The last time he did not pay attention to the fact that I was not here but was at my aunt’s for the day and the previous night because she was sure she had the plague again. So I could not have stolen his stupid cow. And no one had the backbone to try to accuse my aunt of lying for me, not even Bennet. I suspect this time the sheriff just did not want to bother looking.”
Geordie just shook his head and followed her to her barn. He scolded himself for behaving badly, yet still watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, but it took him a long time to stop it. He did manage to step forward fast enough to help her pull open the barn doors.
It was well lit, the scattered openings letting a lot of light in, and surprisingly tidy and clean. Four young goats hurried up to the edge of their stall and tried to call Belle to them. She gave them some attention, then slowly walked down the line of stalls and turned to walk up the other side before stopping in front of him.
“No strange cows in here,” she said.
“Dinnae ken which animals are yours, but I’m seeing only what ye mentioned to him. How does he think accusing ye of theft will work with the sheriff?”
“I have no idea. I think he just gets frustrated and jumps out with a mad idea. I also think he drinks too much.”
“Has he always been this way?”
“Yes, in a way, but it became a problem after my father died. And I think something happened between him and my aunt about then, because he got worse then, too.”
“Perhaps you should ask her if there were some harsh words between them, or something else.”
“I should, and I just might be annoyed enough at the old fool to get up the courage to do it when she brings Abel home later.”
“Weel, might as weel go back inside and I will keep a watch on the barn to make sure no one tries to slip a cow in there.” He took her hand in his and, ignoring the way she briefly tensed, walked them back to the house.
Once in the kitchen he helped her prepare for their next meal. He briefly gave thanks for Mrs. O’Neal’s instruction so that he did not make a fool of himself. Belle was just sliding the meat into the oven when there was a banging on her front door.
“Bennet again?” he asked as they headed to the door.
“Probably. Auntie would just walk on in.” She opened the door and sighed when she saw Bennet and the sheriff. “Thought you had gained some sense during the night, but, no, here you are.”
“We didn’t get a look inside your barn,” said Bennet.
“That is your fault. It was sitting right over there”—she pointed at the barn—“doors open and all. You could have walked over and looked, but you were too busy arguing with Sheriff Woods.”
“And I think you should still be charged with shooting Will.”
“Damn, will you just shut up,” grumbled Woods. “Or I will chargeyou.”
“Me?!”
“You’re the fool who tried to wrestle a loaded gun out of her arms.” The sheriff looked at Belle. “We will just take a quick look in the barn, if you don’t mind, Belle.”
“Go ahead. I have nothing to hide.”
She watched the two men walk to the barn, obviously still bickering. “I think the sheriff is definitely fed up with Bennet.”
“Certainly sounds that way.”
“Doesn’t help that he keeps yanking the sheriff away from his meals,” Geordie said.
Belle hurried into the infirmary. She stopped by Will’s bed and frowned down at him. “How is the leg?”
“Hurts like the devil. Just a constant throb though.”
“Weel, I will just have a look. Not a real warning sign but still ought to peek, maybe put some more medicine on it.”
Will made a face that caused Geordie to smile. He looked when she unwrapped the wound and saw nothing that could be called a warning of infection. He suspected it was a deep hole and that was why it throbbed.
