Page 149 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

Arizona watches the doorway. “Why would he need to go in there now?”

“He could be checking straps or storing paperwork.”

Willy looks at the pallet. “He didn’t take anything inside.”

Beau comes out, locks the door, and returns the key to the office before helping the driver close the tailgate.

Speculation won’t give us anything we can use, so I turn back to the others. “Keep this between us, and make sure nobody treats him differently.”

Arizona nods. “I won’t say anything.”

Emmett glances toward Sadie, who is drawing in the dirt beside the chicken run. “I’ll keep the crew working near the central yard.”

“Do it without making them wonder why.”

Willy carries the wire toward the west fence, and Emmett follows him, leaving Arizona beside me.

“If Beau speaks to you again, stay where someone can see you,” I tell her.

“I can handle him.”

“I know, but he already suspects you heard enough to cause trouble.”

I spend the rest of the afternoon pretending nothing has changed.

It has.

Beau gives me nothing else to question. He repairs a latch near the foaling stalls, checks the south trough, and helps Emmett replace damaged wire along the west pasture.

When one of the younger hands grips the fencing pliers wrong, Beau takes them, demonstrates the proper angle, and hands them back without embarrassing him.

He works exactly as he has for six years, which makes the doubt harder to dismiss and harder to accept.

Arizona crosses the yard with her bag over one shoulder near sundown. I meet her beside her truck while Beau washes up in the bunkhouse.

“Text me when you reach town,” I say.

She sets her bag on the passenger seat. “You’re still checking the shed tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Call Hank if you find anything.”

“I will.”

She braces one hand against the open door. “Trusting Beau doesn’t make you responsible for whatever he might have done.”

“I gave him access to the ranch and stopped checking the records.”

“You gave a dependable employee responsibility after he spent years earning it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I close her door before she can continue. “Drive safely.”

She starts the engine and pulls away. I don’t head back inside until her taillights disappear beyond the trees.

Lately, watching people leave has become a habit.

At the end of the work day, I find Beau beside his pickup, tightening a strap across the truck bed.