Chapter Thirteen
Two weeks passed withouta single incident, and Wade began to find himself relaxing. The men continued to post guard at night, but no more cattle went astray. Perhaps the rustlers had gotten what they wanted and had left the valley.
With worries about the ranch slowly fading, Wade found himself thinking more and more about Hazel.
How had she gotten him to share so much about his family that day by Silver Creek? He never spoke of his parents, and certainly not Cole. Not to anyone. He doubted Kristiansen even knew he had a brother, and he’d probably spoken more to his foreman than anyone else over the past few years. And yet here was Hazel, somehow not only extracting the fact that he had a brother, but that he’d never felt fully assured in the decision he’d made to cut Cole out of his life entirely.
He found himself sneaking glances at her more frequently, admiring the kind smiles she gave to the ranch hands, the way she carefully cracked eggs so as not to get shells in her cooking, how she always looked out toward the horizon first when she came outside, and the funny way she’d named each of the hens in the chicken coop.
And on more than one occasion, he’d caught her watching him too.
What it all meant, he didn’t know. And he didn’t dare think on it too long. Memories of his father, a man carved into something empty and useless after Mama’s passing, were still there, lurking at the edge of his mind. But somehow it was easier to push those thoughts aside when Hazel smiled at him. They faded even more when she asked him a question. And they seemed to disappear entirely when he woke and found himself wishing she was closer than across the landing.
Deep down, he feared he’d pay for ignoring the memories he’d built his life around. But at the same time, he wasn’t entirely certain he cared. At least not right now.
He stood leaning against a shovel he was supposed to be using to dig a new fence post hole, watching Hazel carry a basket of eggs back to the house instead. The door had already shut, and still he stood there—until the sound of hoofbeats drew his attention toward the road.
Two men on horseback rode up at a quick but unrushed clip. Both were armed, but neither held a weapon, and as they grew closer, the sunlight glinted off a badge of silver on one man’s vest.
Even more curious now, Wade leaned the shovel against the fence and strode toward the two of them.
“Afternoon,” he said. Neither one was James Wright, deputy down in Crest Stone. Where these men had come from—and why—was a mystery.
“Sorry to intrude like this,” the man with the badge said as his horse pranced impatiently. “I’m Ben Young, county sheriff. This is Eli Jennings, one of my deputies.”
The younger man to his left nodded a greeting at Wade.
“We’re looking for Wade Pierce,” the sheriff continued.
“You’ve found him,” Wade said. “And I don’t suppose you caught the rustlers that made off with some of my herd a couple weeks ago?”
Sheriff Young removed his hat and wiped his brow before answering. “Not exactly. But we’ve got some of your cattle up in Cañon City. Some fellows tried to sell them, but the man they attempted to sell them to noticed pretty quick that the brands looked half new. Unfortunately, they were gone before I could get to them, but they left the cattle behind.”
Wade didn’t think he’d ever heard happier words. “How about that,” he said, half in disbelief. “Didn’t think I’d ever see them again.”
“They’re safe and fed, but you’ll need to come lay claim to them soon,” Sheriff Young said.
Wade pulled off his gloves. “I’ll get some men and ride up with you now, if it’s not too much trouble.”
The sheriff nodded his assent. “We’re headed back directly. Already stopped and talked with a few of your neighbors. Doesn’t seem anyone else has had trouble or seen anything out of the ordinary.”
“Same as I heard,” Wade replied.
The thought that his ranch was singled out sat oddly with him. What had made him a target? Surely they were as well-staffed as the other nearby ranches. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his cattle, and he held no more or no less land than anyone else. It was a disconcerting feeling, knowing that—out of all the ranches in the valley—it was his ranch the rustlers had chosen.
He found a few men working in the north pasture and sent them to join the sheriff. In the house, Hazel was hard at work scrubbing the floor in the kitchen. It was a job Wade didn’t envy, what with how many boots came through there each day.
“You’re home early,” she said when she saw him. She stood and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her smile filled him up in a way he couldn’t begin to describe, much less understand. So he simply returned it and reached out for her hand. She gave it willingly, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to pull her toward him.
“I’ve got to head up to Cañon City. I’m taking a few men with me. We won’t return until tomorrow. Seems someone tried to sell off the cattle up there.”
Hazel’s eyes widened. “Did the sheriff catch them?”
Wade shook his head. “Will you be all right here alone?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “If I need anything, I’ll find Lars.”
