Page 144 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

“I let people believe that.”

His grin widens before he looks across the yard. “Enjoy the peace while we’ve got it because this place never stays calm for long.”

An engine sounds beyond the gate before I can answer.

Willy lowers the apple and watches a dark SUV turn onto the drive. Dust rolls behind it as Emmett straightens beside the corral and Red sets his hammer against the fence post.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Willy mutters.

The SUV stops beside the house, and Sheriff Hank Miller climbs out while a deputy remains in the passenger seat. Hank removes his sunglasses as he crosses the yard, and the concern across his weathered face brings Red forward to meet him.

“Hank,” Red says as they shake hands.

“Morning.”

Emmett wipes his palms on his jeans and joins them. “Everything alright?”

Hank looks toward the barn and pastures before answering. “We got another report from the rodeo grounds last night. A pickup sat outside the east fence after midnight.”

“Did anyone get the plate?” Willy asks as we leave the porch.

“The caller saw it from the road, and the driver was gone before my deputies arrived.”

Red folds his arms. “Was it near the damaged lock?”

“Close enough that I’m treating it as related.”

Sadie approaches with her grooming brush and presses against Emmett’s side. “Why’s Sheriff Hank here?”

“Ranch business,” Emmett tells her as he rests a hand on her shoulder.

She studies Hank before turning toward Willy. “Did he do something?”

Willy presses the apple against his chest. “Why does everyone assume I’m involved?”

“Because you usually are.”

Emmett guides Sadie toward the house and promises to help her finish brushing the mare after Hank leaves. She goes inside while glancing back at us, certain we’re keeping the interesting details from her.

The deputy waves Hank over from the SUV, but Hank raises a hand to show he’ll be there shortly.

I look toward Red as he rubs his thumb across the silver coin in his palm. He only reaches for it when his thoughts turn dark, and seeing it decides the question for me.

“Sheriff, can I ask you about Travis Mercer?”

Hank studies me before nodding toward the hay shed. “Walk with me.”

Red follows us with his eyes as we move away from the others, although he lets me go without interfering. Hank stops beside the shed and slips his sunglasses into his shirt pocket.

“What’s worrying you?” he asks.

“I’m pretty sure I saw Travis at the rodeo, and Red said he’s not been out of jail long.” I sigh. “I haven’t been able to shake the feeling he’s looking for a fight.”

Hank studies me as we walk beside the hay shed. “What do you think is going on?”

I glance toward Red, who’s back at the fence with his grandfather’s silver coin rolling through his fingers. “I think he wants Red looking over his shoulder. It seems like nothing is happening to hurt him, just cause him stress.”

Hank nods. “Travis has been seen in neighboring towns.”