I turned to face him, already smiling despite my weird interaction with Ruby. “I’m glad I came too, though Ruby just told me Lois didn't like stirring things up. Was that supposed to be some kind of warning?”
He put his hand at the small of my back and guided me toward the far side of the room, away from the crowd. Through the window I could see trucks parked in uneven rows, their headlights cutting through the dusk. A few men stood outside smoking, their voices low and indistinct.
"People are talking," Torin said under his breath. "About you looking through Lois's files. About the breeding records."
"Let them talk."
"Claire—"
"I'm not doing anything wrong." I turned to face him. "If they don't like it, that's their problem."
His gaze held mine, steady and searching. "Just be careful."
I wanted to argue. To tell him I didn't need to be careful, didn't need anyone managing my choices for my own good. But the concern in his eyes wasn't patronizing. It was real and maybe earned.
"I will," I said instead.
A hand clapped Torin on the shoulder, and we both turned. Slade Kincaid stood there, a beer bottle in one hand and an easy grin on his face. He looked bigger than I remembered with the kind of build that came from working bulls and living hard.
"Deputy." Slade nodded at Torin, then shifted his attention to me. "Claire Hollister. It’s been a while."
"Hi, Slade."
"I heard you're the one who cracked Dawson's lineage problem. That was solid work. Saved us a hell of a headache with permits."
"Just following the records," I said.
"Yeah." His smile didn't waver, but something shifted in his eyes. "Your aunt kept good records. Real thorough."
The pause hung between us.
"She did," I agreed.
"Are you still going through her papers?"
There it was. The question everyone wanted to ask but most were too polite to voice outright.
"I'm the executor. It's my job."
Slade took a slow sip of his beer, watching me over the rim. "Sure. Just curious if you've come across anything else interesting. You know, besides the horse stuff."
Torin shifted his weight from one foot to the other like he was ready to step in front of me if necessary.
"Nothing worth mentioning," I lied.
Slade studied me for another beat, then nodded. "Well, if you do, let me know. Town history's a funny thing. Sometimes the old stories are better left alone. Sometimes they need updating." He raised his beer in a casual salute. "Good seeing you both."
He walked away, disappearing into a cluster of ranchers near the food table.
I looked up at Torin. "That was weird.”
"Yeah." Torin's voice was tight. "It was."
Conversations continued around us. Laughter rose and fell, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
"I need some air," I murmured.
Torin grabbed hold of my hand and led me outside. The evening had cooled, the sky streaked with pink and gold. We walked to the edge of the parking lot, away from the folks who were still arriving to take part in the celebration.
