His gaze again slid out the barn door and to the house. Even though he couldn’t have Violet right now, at least she was on the ranch nearby.
Now that the problems were gone and she no longer needed him in the same way, would she be ready to move on? Or at the very least move on from him?
With her father living on the ranch, he hoped she would stay. According to Beckett’s report this morning, Mr. Berkley wasn’t adjusting well to ranch life. He was soft, weak, and pampered.But thankfully he seemed determined to keep going, even though the work was hard for him.
At the moment, the fellow had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to, and no other way to survive the coming winter. The ranch was probably the best place for him, since town and the gaming tables weren’t within easy reach. The abstinence would hopefully help his cravings for gambling to eventually diminish.
As Sterling stepped out of the barn, a shout from across the fields to the west caught his attention. He tipped up the brim of his hat and located a lone figure galloping across the soggy pasture. The snow from the previous week was now mostly gone, leaving only puddles behind.
The lanky but muscular body with the slouched shoulders belonged to Beckett. What was he doing out in the foothills when he’d said he had to run to town for an errand?
Sterling watched the foreman’s approach, his body tensing. There weren’t more problems with Claude, were there?
Sterling had stopped by Red Cap Saloon last night on his way home and delivered the final three hundred dollars to Claude himself. The saloon owner had shaken his hand, told him the deal was done, and wished him good luck. Surely the fellow wouldn’t go back on his word.
“Saddle your horse,” Beckett called when he was finally in shouting distance.
Saddle his horse? Sterling’s pulse pounded harder. “What for?”
“It’s the women.”
Sterling didn’t have to be told twice when it came to the women, to Violet. Without even a farewell to the veterinarian, Sterling took off at a jog toward the horse barn. He saddled his horse in record time and was leading his gelding out into the ranch yard when Beckett reined in near the barn.
From all appearances, Beckett didn’t seem hurt or anxious.
“Are the women okay?” Sterling began to mount his horse.
“They’re fine.” Beckett’s tone contained a note of irritation.
“They’re not hurt?”
“Nope.”
Sterling allowed himself a full breath—the first since seeing his foreman approaching. “Then what’s wrong?”
Beckett spat out the piece of hay he’d been chewing, then his jaw flexed with his displeasure. “They went back out to the cabin.”
Sterling’s whole body ceased functioning, and he could only stare at his foreman.
“Yep. You heard me right.”
Sterling scrambled to find a reason why they would do such a thing. Had someone threatened them again? Or was Violet running away from him?
He didn’t even want to think about the second option. Couldn’t bear the prospect that she wanted to get away from him, that maybe he’d scared her off by telling her of his love the other day.
“Did they say why they went?” And for that matter, with her ankle still not healed, how had she gotten there? With the snowmelt of the past few days, there was the chance she’d ridden a horse for most of the distance and maybe only had to ski the last quarter of a mile. It would have been hard for her, but it was possible. Or maybe Hyacinth had taken the sled and pulled her the last portion.
“We need to get there as quickly as possible.” Beckett didn’t answer his question but instead shifted his horse back around, already nudging it into a trot.
Sterling did the same, and in no time, the two of them were racing across the field. The cold breeze hit Sterling’s face, and the mud flew up around him, urging him faster. They rode hardfor a short while until they reached the higher elevation, where the terrain was slippery and wet, forcing them to slow their pace.
When they finally reached the pastureland, Sterling nudged his horse beside Beckett’s. “Do you know why they ran away out here again?” Sterling wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer and stiffened his shoulders to brace himself for the worst—that Violet didn’t want to be near him.
Beckett glanced at him sideways. “I told them I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Shoot, Beckett.” Sterling shook his head curtly, the frustration pooling inside. “Don’t do this to me.”
Beckett shrugged. “They’re fine, though. I can tell you that.”
